Hunting the Future
The future is a small grey shadow
darting across the horizon
of each dawn.
It is a flicker of light
in the silence of each sunset.
It never waits or offers relief
of hunger or passion
to the traveler
who rests beside the road.
The traveler waits holding the reality of his world
together, like a tight bundle of dry sticks,
in his shaking hand.
The future is the smoke of long ago fires,
void of human emotion and offers of pity -
An alien bird running ahead of a storm.
A master of stillness.
A moment in time: a tiny breeze
that touches the cheek
and then its gone.