When I was young
There was a crater outside my house
Adults called it a pothole
But I knew it was a crater
Or sometimes a rock quarry
Or the location of a devastating mudslide
In it, I carefully placed what some might think were rocks or sticks
But what I knew to be the infrastructure of the biggest city in the world
One day, someone came and filled in my crater
And the bustling civilization fell silent
An entire city wiped off the map
Because someone wanted a smoother ride to work
Now that I'm older
And my eyes are more jaded, worn out, and hurried
I also want a smoother ride to work
But sometimes, as I drive over a pothole
I smile
Knowing that there are still many great seas
Many gold mines
Many archaeological digs
Yet to be put to the good use of imagination
And I drive a little slower