In this poem, Uma Menon contends with the feelings of frustration or even burnout that can arise from approaching the complexity of progress over time. If we track what we consider to be progress with a linear approach, by simply comparing the present to the past, we might be disheartened to notice ways in which momentum towards a more just world has stagnated or even backslid during our lifetimes. Uma reflects on the complexity of a generational view of time in which progress ebbs and flows, and accompanies our hopes for the better futures imagined across generations.