A wide dirt road runs through the center of town

with all of the shops lined up along each side.

There rests a log cabin style building with a

wooden sign swinging in the breeze, announcing ‘Grocer.’

Next to the grocer are hotel, dress shop, and bank,

all coated with a fine layer of dirt and dust.

Standing sentry in front of each building is a row of

long troughs and sturdy wooden posts for tethering horses.

Hay bales are stacked crookedly on the wooden planks that serve as a porch.

The other side of the street boasts a feed store,

tannery, and blacksmith shop, all over 100 years old.

At the very end of the road, suitably enough,

is a small yet charming church, complete with

a tall white steeple and large brass bell.

Each of these pieces of history has been

honored and well-maintained, so that

they may be appreciated by all who show an interest.

And as I move through this snapshot of history

my mind wanders along a parallel course.

How many years will it be before this same fate

befalls Los Angeles?  Or New York?  Or Washington?

How many generations before our lives,

our rituals, our superstitions and habits and professions

become nothing more than a bit of interesting trivia?

How long before we are obsolete?