Alien Space Cadet

Three-thousand five-hundred eighty-one miles and

fifteen years away

I thought it would be

so different–

the heavens are closer

so

it might as well

be another world–

But the light is nice

birds sweet

and it’s a nice place

to sit on this lichen covered bench

      more living than not,

   these strangers less strange

     breathing comes easy

     and we are not so different

Our hearts– or something else

thumping in separate chests

sober of thinking

call to this land and get an answer

that still does not sound

in these ears I know to be hearing

–it is yearning

that stretches over oceans

and hollows out

the pit of the heart

so it has

a nice place

to sit

to listen