To the Stars

When pinpricks break the velvet drapes of night,
An august air, long and lonely,
When life takes silence's brittle form.

When basking stones have lost their warmth
And meadows' eyes are closed in sleep,
When love's leaves have fallen.

Then comes a song, an aria,
Lodestone's reassuring pull to home, the core,
And the star that guides and gathers me.

A Ballad

Now I well remember
That day like my last
As the headlights cut shadows
Of the people we passed,
And we left your home city
Going God knows but where,
New coats that bare fit us
And the devil may care.

I fought for my country
You fought for your king,
I in the shipyards
And you on the wing.
You wrote when you could
And I filed them away
In a box made of metal
And a heart made of clay.

Thirteen months later
I stood by the door
With a box that grows fat
With your letters no more.
One final note and
A flag for your shroud,
That you'd done your duty
And I should be proud.

There was grace in your temple
And a stripe on your arm,
Two wings to cut through
The air bright and warm.
Though your candle grows tallow
And your fields fall to stone,
Our hearts are together
Though our hands are alone.