green clouds obscure the red star
we’ve been here–I think–for twelve years,
making it around 1975 back home, 
allowing for relativity

the animals are intelligent,
speaking a variety of languages,
living in societies bartering
with The Others
for dwindling resources

we don’t bother trying to learn–
there is no point and

body language doesn’t work so well
here, with species from different 
cultures, histories,
planets

we’ve been left alone–mostly–
after the initial battery of tests
to which we were all
subjected

pen and paper work well in this atmosphere,
so we keep notes to share with one another
but we find we have less to say
as time (whatever that is) goes by

we don’t think we are going home,
nor could this place ever become home–
we are stuck out of place in this universe,
living, but not advancing

I can’t remember the sound
of laughter