leftovers

Oh, you can tell



You can recognize

survivors from a previous creation

by the look in their eyes.


A billion years of waiting

for a universe to cool,

for life to evolve,

for new species to achieve spaceflight,

for images and sound encoded

in electromagnetic radiation

to reach

that cold and pitted hull

wherein sapients older than time

play the same damn games

and sip hydroponic home brew,

waiting for the new folk

to reinvent the good stuff.


Oh yes, it leaves a mark.


So if one of them

takes the stool next to you,

buy him or her or it a drink

of something local and highly prized;

don't let on you know,

but listen to the stories;

some of them are probably true.



The end