When Dialogues Fail

When dialogues fail
And all that remains is the talk of work
   or politics
The colors fade; the smoldering sparks suffocate
Silence that is not comfortable, but strained
   or accepted
Where does the talk of a sky’s light go?
The roses at the end of the day or its birth
   are lost, gone
I recall a night of stars, laughter, then
   awe at Hale-Bopp
We were telescoped and researched
   and the conversation ran around the dark field
Until it hit those pines that marked the top 
  of Ridge Road 
Your body heat mirrored the comet’s
   and we glowed
We could talk a cloud until it surrendered its rain
The blades of grass and small button mushrooms
   knew our voices
But calendars fell to refuse and batteries died
Time became passing seasons and 
   the graying of our moments together

Where does the talk of a sky’s light go?
EvaporatioN,  DesiccatioN, VaporizatioN, 
Applewhite and Nettles 
   and dissipation of ponderings
   in a vacuum