this too is part of it

it's a near empty

bar,

the waitress, the tender,

the bus

boy

the old man in the corner,

remembering

with a glass of scotch

better times.

but then there's us.

two strangers,

across a round table.

you can hardly

hear the music, or the sound

of the water

outside the window.

the past is brought up,

the unseen future.

little is mentioned of now.

this warm drink

with the ice gone, this bad

food.

this place in the middle

of nowhere.

it's a moment in time,

soon forgotten.

this too is a part of it,

somehow.