When We Become the Clan Elders

When We Become the Clan Elders

　

When we become the clan elders
Sitting in rocking chairs
Shelling speckled beans
For the winter stews,

　
When the young ones
Weary of their chasing, climbing
and hiding games
Gather, lulled by the gentle rustle of empty husks
and thud of polished
beans in the bowl

　
They will sit, wide eyed,
and ask us about
The time
before

　
Back when snow lay thick in winter
and a bucket of water
left out over night
would be made into a
thick walled cylinder of ice
that would hold a candle for weeks
of winter darkness

　
Back when the summer rains were gentle
and only rarely tore plants,
and never trees, from the ground
in their violence
And there was equal measure of sun and rain
during the three months
which they now know for 
the constant drumming of monsoon rain

　
Back when the big coastal cities
Thrived,
Full of people, commerce and art
Yet un-drowned.

　
Some wise child
will always ask
When?
When did you know the Change was coming?

　
And we ponder,
as our hands pop bean pods
and slide hard, speckled pellets into the waiting bowl

　
Was it the year the temperature soared
to summer heat
during the spring lambing,
The year of the two big floods?
The first of the hurricanes to drown lower Manhattan?
The summer the fields around the cabin were ankle deep in water?

　
We hesitate before answering,
In part
because we are unsure of when
the warning signs were too clear to ignore,
but mostly because we know that
the next question will be
The one we can not answer.

　
Why?
Why didn't you do something,
When you knew?
When there was still time?