The Future

Once in the past in second grade class
it was our assignment to draw;
and with my title, High-Flooded in red,
it was the future I saw.

So my art poured on white poster board,
(at seven with myriad flaw);
still overcrowding appeared in my head,
filled to the brim I foresaw.

I was not Verne yet I loved to learn
and often I’d hear a guffaw;
so with an insight the picture was fed,
I drew the future with awe.

Seems way back then I hadn’t a friend,
and sometimes I was a cat’s paw;
so academics I leaned on instead,
and it did not crowd my craw.

I drew bright lights and round satellites
that looked like mud matted with straw;
seeing such visions is where I was led--
no need to rack my brain raw.

On that one day my art got an A
and everyone heard my hurrah;
now I lament as I lie on my bed:
“This is the future I saw.”


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