I notice with several of my poems that I keep asking pretty much the same question. It may seem important, but I'm now starting to ask just how relevant it really is. I do like this poem, though. I like the play on words, but again, I tend to have a favorite word for a while. This period of time appeared to be "apart." I like it because it's made up of the "a" and "part" which means belonging to, and yet together they mean the opposite.
Lying here
lying here, looking up
staring at the stars
feeling kinship
they are alone
one star, then another
apart, of the whole
I reach out to them
they are so far away
everyone sees them
you promise they are real
those stars
beyond touch
am I?
c. 2010 Carl Thames
In reading this again, I'm once again asking if I'm reachable, or even real. That's always a question. Have I distanced myself from the general flow of society so much that I'm no longer approachable? I see evidence of that. The curious thing is that I'm not sure that it bothers me. I'm a lot more hesitant to make new friends now. While I tell myself that I'm open to a romantic relationship, I'm not doing anything about achieving that. I guess I'll just see what happens.
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