Ultraterrestrial

                       Ultraterrestrial

Modern poetry  modern verse contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem

My brothers’ lives are alien and far

Away from mine.  The wives float, quite . . . unknown . . .

Along with foreign things like kids.  Bizarre . . .

And also there are even grandkids.  Those alone

Make distant universes from the sphere

I live in, which is childless.  Parallel

Would be too strong a word.  More like a sheer

Reverse is what my cosmos is.  Pastel

Is probably what they imagine mine

To be, a sonnet-wide and childless sea,

A distant epic poem, waveless brine

And salty shore without a landing quay.

  The chart to their existence has been burned

    For me.  Their lives are planets that I spurned.

Phillip Whidden