The Future Perfect

Whose future is perfect?

I dialogue all day with my dead mother
Her words both define and hide her
‘Just don’t let there be war’ over and over
‘Oh, come on, why would or could there be war?’
By contrast, my father, the ex enemy, jokes
on a US transport berthed ‘Their harbour bridge is an ugly arched cat.’
I am still an apologetic child for their forced escape
and an adult orphan spread over the needs of each generation
corkscrewing society safe, but :
rounds of scammers are weakening my cyber grip:
so I slip out and stop trying to connect
A Chinese freight ship docks, the Russians invade Ukraine
And the future is no longer mine but bright and theirs.