2 poems,A Memory and the Smell of superman

A MEMORY

He's five ,
and as we lie here on the grass, on a warm ,
clear summers night,
on holidays, and bedtime is well past
and there is no moon, but oh how the stars shine bright
and twinkle ,
just like in the song that he sings,
gently to himself
as we lie here,
looking up at heavens floor

THE SMELL OF SUPERMAN
He's gone , and all thats left is the stale smell
of old tobacco on clothes
that will no longer be worn on the frail thin body
that had once been Superman to me .
His laugh, funny sayings that made no sense to anyone
but him and me, are no more.
And yet in a song or a way of doing in others,
I'll see, and smile
and remember

This would have been sufficiently interesting on the strength of the title alone, but how fine it is, such restraint, such dignity!