America, 2022

Amber beams dance lazily as far as eye can see,
ignorant of the ancient battlefield they stand upon.
My senses are accosted by the smell of beer, piss, and gasoline,
the marks of an ephemerally prosperous people.
Even the children here are wealthy war heroes,
ostensibly hardened and criminally independent.
Reformation birthed us in bloodshed and hardship;
it remains the embodiment of our spirit.
Identity is everything, and it is eternal;
so short a lifetime leaves no room for forgetfulness.
Can we surpass the grabby-handedness of a toddler,
ignorant of all besides that which they desire?
America, you beautiful and influential little child,
there is still work to be done.