Back Then

Great grandpa in the field, horse-ploughing
Worked in his shirtsleeves, farmer’s habit
Then if he saw someone arriving
He first put on his formal jacket

Society long gone from where
It was that way more than a hundred
Years ago, we are not there
In time and space but live out-hollowed

So now we are the anxious shell
Of our long gone solidity,
And no one knows it quite so well
As those who have saved the memory

Where will we go to now that we
Have nowhere left to solid be?