better days

better days
are ahead you hear
the old man say
as he leans
on a cane
in the snow,
tugging at your arm.
you'll see, he
says. don't worry
about any
of this. i've
seen death on
a great scale.
poverty
and pain. this is
nothing.
better days
are coming he
says, wiping his
mouth with
his sleeve
and taking a long
drink
from a flask
he pulls from
deep within his
grey coat.
better days are
coming, he says,
but can you spare
me a few dollars
until they do?