We see the future in jet packs and zombies, Rosey rainbows / blackest black, Hopes and dreams / nightmare screams - Yet what of future past? It was all a fog. Blankets and sheets of unknown, Draped over faith and doubt. A slow rolling reveal of unfathomable nuance, And the courage to find out. Long steps on a short dock we’re born walking, Long lines in a short play we’re born talking, Long waits for a short break we’re born stalking, And a lifetime of figuring out. You can damn this fog but it’s all you’ve known, It’s where you’re from — how you’ve grown. We’ll probably never know a jet pack zombie past So we just walk our planks, Until the last.