A pain gnaws him as he looks out to the falling day.

On this land of dimmer glow and vaster stretch

stings him the thought

separation could be such unimaginably painful!

From the beginning he had dreamed a resemblance
had hoped for it

between this world and his

but his wildly scanning senses
keep bouncing on a dead wall!

He remembers how he missed home
from a few scores of miles

and when younger

even five hundred yards from mom
was enough for tears...

Here he’s away five hundred light years!

The night dawns with the blue moon sphere.

He has to live from now on

*his worst nightmare!

I just stood transfixed, letting her eyes light
the smothered wick in me that needed the oil of love
with  anxious stutter I asked, "Is your name Grace?"
"It really is, you are right there, but pardon me
I am Grace Fallen" I took it as a joke and smiled,
"Dear fallen flower, your grace resurrects my crucified spirit"

I have seen them all, blooms, perfect, fragrant,
the ones that catapult one to momentary bliss
with a wink,  a word that touches somewhere tender
or share love, fresh like butter, that seems gushing from the depth
that not even  expect any kind of reciprocation,
blowing like fragrant  breeze, caressing drooping trees.
Women with such luminance ,bless their ilk
whom one only could think as incarnates
came down  to lift this miserable world
up from the quagmire, the ***** pit  it has fallen
because of the absence of feminine grace in abundance

one would like to say it is was sad
though as you walk around
there is no words that come out
just another place
not sad really

just one more place

people still smile
even though you're broken
beaten down
nice of them
the notes of broken authors flash before you

there is nothing to say
to the cute one
a table away
the eyes drag your own sadness
into clear relief

you look away
welcome to nowhere
don't worry
there is no concept here of late

In the falling light of day
I read the old man a book.

Stories of love, enmity, deceit
Jealousy, betrayal, sacrifice
All from one author’s mind
One penning hand
Some very short some too long
But nowhere do I find
He has taken a stand
On virtue and vice
Right and wrong
Belief faith
Destiny fates
Nowhere asserts
If he is theist atheist agnostic
Nor invokes god
Praise or curse him.

I read and the old man nods

in the falling light of his day!

I have my reasons for avoiding people
They have a way of sneaking up
And having that much control on how you deal with how they relate to you
I keep my distance
Some say I am a coward
Others say I am weak
maybe
But I am also fragile
And wear my winter fur to keep them off
I sincerely don’t like building relations
So  please pardon my distance