#537 L'Avenir

Everything in the distance seems so
picture perfect — the stars, the hills 
in shadow. & those things up close —
the open window, the pristine bench 
with that loaf so fresh you would 
swear you could smell it — refresh 

that first impression of perfection. 
Then doubts start creeping in. Why 
are there no lights dotting the hillside? 
Why are there no knick knacks around 
the house to indicate some evidence 
of human inhabitation? Who, therefore, 

baked the loaf? Is it really real? Or is 
this image of the future a wry obser-
vation by the painter that life as we
currently know it might eventually 
vanish from the planet because hu-
mankind cannot live by bread alone?