A man waits
on a veranda looking out
over the trembling landscape
as if he understands
the future

He smokes
a slender cigarette
watching the incense curl
away from everything
he knows

A woman listens
for the familiar step
she will never hear again
trying to imagine why
it must be so

She breathes deep
into the darkening landscape
waiting for an old future
as if it still trembles
there before her

They look up
at the swirling galaxies
and are comforted almost
by the past.

Alex Skovron

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