Watching The Stars Snuffed Out Poem by Mark Heathcote

Our paths are dark, anchored to a porch
watching the stars snuffed out.
Asking simply, what's it all about?
Holding hands is what saves me from going insane
Going out like the sun or drowning in the sea.

While all the ravens we thought were figments,
Visitations of hell rose from the corn
And said live just for another day
Nothing is as bleak as you melancholy believe.
As you melancholy thinks or believes.

So I'm holding your hand in dreams
Looking at you
And no longer thinking of crows on tombstones
So I'm trading all my noughts and zeros
Til the stronghold at my bank
can't hold another gold nugget or cloud
oh, and darling, I feel saved for a short while.
Looking at you ever after in details new.