The Existential Futility of the Zodiac

My old and my young, my low and my high
Have all come beneath the same stars, in the same sky.
Who change not, for all my frustrations,
Who aren't moved by my joy or my strife.
They hold, more than I do, to their patterns,
Though I ever am living the same life.
They shun both stagnation and hurry,
Forever holding the same pace–
A reminder that I'm always the same guy,
In a slightly different place,
While the contrast between the consistent old stars,
and the younger, and fickler moon
Reminds me that even when scenes change,
Life will feel all the same again soon.

Remember Me Well

I remember staying in, and I remember going out.

I remember nervousness before it was doubt.

I remember driving, remember riding, remember talking.

I remember holding hands, taking time, walking.

I remember feeling-out. I remember feeling new.

I remember feeling broken-in, and comfortable with you.

I remember Sunny mornings, awake in the same bed.

I remember feeling just slightly out of my head.

I remember when we laughed, and hardly had a reason.

I remember when we were together, and in season,

But forgotten that it ended in an autumn and a frost.

I've forgotten how to hate you, 'cause it wasn't worth the cost.

I've forgotten all our differences, and the end that they were spelling,

So I've hardly any doubt that you've improved in the retelling.