The words they spoke were different
but they sounded just the same
as friends
and ends
were oh too often evidenced
by their mingled heat and pain

The brothers, the mates, the whispers
beneath the moon they viewed
with longing
but belonging
to communities of air and tents
and visions of home were skewed

Poised thus ~ they never knew with certainty
what the next moon would reveal
but oh
just so
they could see it from a constant
home ! Perhaps their hearts might heal.

From their homes in different places
they’re near
and hear
they also died to come home ~ spent
still their heart wear the same faces

Mates and brothers returned with them
Home behind the moon is where they are;
they reach
and teach
them that they’re not so different
No trade ~ always were, always are never far.