- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Our Song ... ?
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August moon is waning
wind is blowing hard
yellow leaves are littering
the front and the back yard,
Two a.m. coffee
black as new-dug coal
in a logo coffee cup
from some café I stole,
You are not here with me
though said you might come by
something about working
somewhere you had to fly,
We’d probably be sleeping
in bed, or something else
not looking at the stars
like mementos on the shelf,
They each have a name
most I do not know
but each dot of light
is a place I’d like to go,
Are there orbiting humans
folks like you and me
or just gas and rock
nothing much to see?
A hundred years ago
a hundred years from now
out of fourteen billion
does it matter anyhow?
If we’re here for just a second
why are the nights so long
while in my mind I’m hearing
that tune we call our song …
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