The yard is dark now
and so we lie dreams facing up
to recreate the stories of the skies.
I ask the group which stars are special-
Venus is that extra bright one to the right,
right?
My star-gazing is only impressive enough
to point out the giant spoon.
The police plane keeps flying over-head.
They say that they’re tracking heat emissions-
to crack down on grow-ops and find out who’s fire-pits
aren’t actually two feet off the ground.
I like the reprieve they give the stars.
Last night I saw the sky dancing,
in soft open strings.
The lines bursting through the blackness.
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