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Photo credit: Sharmagne Leland-St.John

Worlds Apart
by Frederick W. Bassett

There you are in the West, a vibrant
woman with a yearning heart,
widowed now for too many years,
standing alone in the afterglow
of an ineffably stunning sunset.

Here I am in the East, recently widowed,
my old romantic heart but an ember,
sitting alone on the deck,
caught in the moon's light as it rides
the dark trees beyond the gurgling creek.

We're worlds apart and likely
always will be by time and space.
Ah, the awesome mystery of both.
And yet, we're connected by the carefully
arranged words we call our poetry.


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