Christopher Hansard:[When the Sunlight Falls]

When the sunlight falls upon the waves

carefree and glancing as they lap around the

last remains of a sky scraping tower

the young child from the little boat looks up with wondering eyes

‘who made these things?’ his mother catches his thoughts..

‘men who were like gods, men who fell to the earth and could not get up again’

the child wonders,sad thoughts

trawling a memory of what was once

another world, fingers trailing in water

as fish swirl around the little boat

as by thought it moves silently

across the great saltwater lake

deep in the refracted depths

white whales harvest the plankton

while a serrated moon

hangs tilted in the blue starred night

years pass the child now a man

goes past in a little boat

and his daughter wonders the very same as he once did

a hundred years go past

people pass by they do not see the ruins

they do not know what they are

the ruins

they have slipped

from memory and so they do not exist