night is here thank the heavens
your face in my mind quiet and rough
your hands calloused from life
your breath with no warmth
language rusted in your throat
the times are changing a Dylan song
you’d hum on your side of the room
i was not unique enough to worship
your love the accolades of poets
smithing words then catapulted into skies
to let the satellite cast your ego widely
and now we’re old but i not enough yet
the patina of good living never tarnished me
i too have a room no satellite just memory
no accolades just words fertile with thoughts to be