Life from a Near Empty Hallway

There are cameras dead throughout the hall, “The Future through our eyes” I read aloud While everyone and everything is gone-or did I leave? But there were others- they have left remains Men sweep the rumors up, and take them out; There are grey coffins for their bones by every door, Drains in the floor, though we are in a drought. This trophy case is sometimes nearly full; I helped with two, the rest aren’t up to me. (The silver warriors locked in their embrace, Are the only ones who seem to see.) Where is the world? -Not here. Though you can see it’s shadows on the walls; Texas, China, Spain, and Italy. Here is a fountain broken, there graffiti gray, A sign asks not to litter, but in vain. Just who, then, is left to make their mark upon the world? Just who are we remembering? I sigh, and think, and slowly pace Along the edges of the view. “In case of fire, use stairs”; Sometimes that seems so hard to do.