Stars Outside

Formations are the same in the evening sky,

Wherever I glance I can be next to you again,

Miles away yet I am still wanting to be with you,

Not as much in the physical sense as intellectual.

I want you to help me to solve some riddles,

And it seems likely well especially now,

When I am spewing out these words to Henley,

I can write forever and try to figure out just why,

But I cannot,

I still am unable,

I’m drawn,

Tight

To a sort of noose of reality,

That piece of recognition suggests I am wrong,

And no one cares to correct me anymore.

Outside, the stars align the same way,

Every night.

Evening Rounds

Social manners inside the hour of night

Delightful laughs, patterned clever asides

Within the moment of an hour might

Lives remain intertwined as time abides

Certain personas come to life in bars

The sort our moms suggest we avoid

Yet, quite frankly fun breathes under the stars

Fake accents that quietly fill the void.

Drinks become a commodity as time

Begins to wane while your impulse takes chance

Will you look spectacular or sublime

When morning calls whence we pull on our pants.

The sparkling sun that exposes our face

Cannot then hinder last night’s even pace.