Monday, September 15, 2014

Here and There






Yesterday, far from a pen
You vexed me with your acumen
Now here I sit and stare, the air
Stripped of what yesterday was There

…and There, for all its fantasy
Is always far too far from me
Ah, perhaps There, for all I think
Is nothing but five-letter ink

...the ebb and flow of here to there
Intangible, is like the air
existing in aery sigh
That vexes as it passes by

The pantomime of rhythm and rhyme
Some deem a tedious waste of time
But they are There and I am here
And oh, we disagree, my dear

So There you are and Here am I
We cannot meet and yet we try
For There fills possibility
…here skins its air for poetry

© Janet Martin

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