Someday We Will Join Hands As Stars in the Night Sky

We
are poets
our fingers are verses
of a double cinquain separated
by the

spaces
between fingertips nearly touching
through the foggy
window
pane.

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Another Perspective

Another poem about the view from a different perspective, also featured at VerseWrights.

Poets on the Moon

Two poets met on the moon. They stood on the acute rim of ink-black shadow and paper-white silence. There was no birdsong, no river wild, just the ghosts of old dogs willed to the object of their howling. They looked up at the blue Earth, where they saw themselves not as far apart as they had imagined. Without shifting their gaze, they clasped hand, fingers interlaced, heads empty as craters, hearts full of stardust, thirsty, beneath a bright, watery planet.