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