He Said To Me

I need to move

from Earth

I need to make space

as if I were a creator

or creative, of some sort

I need to mark

from Intention

I need to mean something

as if they’d someday speak

Or marvel, of the firmament

Remembered

He
With a clarinet voice in June 
On a lone sun day sang his joy us tune
What a gift was he

Me
On a journey that won’t end soon
Thru windows without strings calling the moon
He’ll remember me


her own poem

He was always his own
On loan
And less of a rock than a stone

She these reasons unknown
Bemoaned
Existing on scraps and on bones

Now with learned heart grown
Wounds sewn
She lives in the no-holds-barred zone