Still you go to the door,smile into the wind, the breath of those you’ve loved..long dead.
Between the time you woke that morning
and the time when the drone came,
a tired sadness; a nostalgic walk down memory lane
able only to tease you with a weak sting.
You stare off into a distance limned.
between the stones;
between tea, between a cup
and the sound of drones
you have forgotten the sound of joy
They used to write crazy sci-fi stories about moments like this