Saturday, April 4, 2015

Warm Stars


On this cold night

The stars seem brighter

Some still flicker though

In the distance

Like a fluorescent bulb slowly dying

Fading in and out, in and out

Yet, most are shining bright tonight

I lie to myself saying

Maybe, just maybe

Somehow

Someway

They’re making this night a little warmer

Till the sun comes up

And actually does so

The one star I hope never

Flickers like a dying bulb

But

Maybe tonight they’re not stars at all

Maybe angels are chasing fireflies

Maybe it’s candlelit wishes floating

On clouds of hope

Maybe?

A Mosquito Hawk now flutters

Under this full moon

Dancing its dance of madness

Flailing like a fish snatched from its pond

By the false promise of food

Hiding a hook

Yesterday

A woman offered me a bible

This stranger said, it was new

I said, no thank you

I’ve already read it

Then a crash loud like thunder

Exploded behind me

We turned to see a buzzard

Once perched on top a power pole

Now hanging

Suspended in a smoldering mess

Blown apart into thirds

Yet

Still held together by bones and tissue

The woman turns back to me and says

I understand you

I know where you’re coming from

She then walked away with books in hand

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