poetree

Revolution is a TV series exploring life fifteen years after a worldwide blackout (with numerous flashbacks to the modern day). This poem features spoilers up through the most recent (seventh) episode.

When the older Ash shows up,
The younger Ash finds her
And heads her off.
Alex has been touchy about the Teferact,
And the fewer copies of her friends there are arond
The more precious they seem.

At first Ash can't take it in,
Not just the Teferact,
But the lights in the hallways.
Not just the computers
Her calloused fingers slowly rove over,
But the microwave young Ash casually
Nukes things with.

She doesn't ask, at first.
Soon enough the visitor
Will be overstimulated
And pull away, wanting to explain it all.

"The power," she says,
(And young Ash glances down at her t-shirt)
"Has been off for fifteen years."

"There were some people--no one I knew,
They'd been sponsored by the DoD."
(And young Ash hears her saying
"Thank goodness for Alex and her money,
Keeping us out of the fray.")
"Tried to build generators, make power everywhere,
Wound up shutting it down. Everything."

She breaks off. Young Ash tries to change the subject.
"Do you need food? Medicine?"

"No. We survived. I went north,
Wound up on a reservation.
The United States crumbled, but then,
We'd been good at slipping through the cracks anyhow.
I work on a farm--we, I guess.
What day is it today?"

Young Ash tells her,
And she exhales.

"The others...we fell out of touch.
It was too hard, staying around here.
Alex stuck it out, I think,
She's still hopeful.
Morgan took it the hardest,
Realizing Hawaii is
Not exactly in boating distance."

Young Ash remembers the proofs
Of arrows and circles and dot dot dots.
Given enough space
And enough time,
Every computer is more or less
Only as weak or as strong
As a simple piece of paper,
Stretching out to infinity
In both directions
And then glances up at the woman before her.

"You can stay here," she says.
"You shouldn't have to go back."

"No. I need to go back.
But first I need to go to Illinois.
Depending on what my vector looks like,
There might be something I can take back,
To make a difference on the other end.
If not--so much the better for you,
You're safe here."

Young Ash doesn't bother to talk her out of it.
Fifteen years is a long time.
"Then take this," she says,
Taking off her shirt,
(Still self-conscious even under her own gaze),
And passes it to an equally embarrassed Ash.
"The symbol of power."
And so she does.