The Curved Arrow

I wonder;
Do the stars admire our glow?
Beneath or into the immense expanse,
Do we carry weight in the
Weightlessness of space?

Eternal grandfathers,
Ancient; beyond time
Beyond minds and beyond
All but the sky itself…
Parallax bodies and
Parallax souls,
Eyes of the blind,
Breakfast cereals
In the shape
Of the moon
At half mast.

So soon, so soon,
It’s half past
And I must go,
As the sun sets east
I set west,
To the sea of dreams,
To meet with the trees,
Who’s peculiar prosody,
A penchant for pedant,
Seems detrimental,
If not rude.

Oh, a crude joke,
A cruel yoke to bear,
I’m so sorry dear,
A gust of wind
Has caught your hair
And blown you close,
Cheek to cheek,
I’ve fallen in love
I do believe,
And those stars above…
Well they need not speak;
I know they care.