Visions of the Afterworld

A man ravaged by calamity
broke the silence this
morning by throwing the tarp off
the jagged edges of an old escalade
He peers back down into the front
floorboard to see his penelope, lying
in repose with a small boy,
playin' with a broken toy
in the front passenger seat.
"I'm gonna go on and get to huntin'"
and his penelope says "I love You!"
shouting so he can hear her outside
the run down car.
Although the hunter does not hear it,
he understood it.
And as the hunter stood straight
and peered into the sky,
he could make out where the Sun was,
just vaguely. The fallout clouds have destroyed sunlight
The Wars have destroyed our monuments
and our aesthetic beauty.
But when the post-apocalyptic hunter
bears home supper on his back, he sees in the
eyes of his son and the face of his penelope,
the stolen light of the sun,
the beauty of the once high-standing towers
and the monument of love
present in the small boy,
who is playing, content
with the dirt, the death and the broken toys.