Starstruck
I
knew it was a cliché but couldn’t help myself.
Driving
home from a countryside gig
I
succumbed to the song of the stars
clear-voiced
without the white noise of polluting light.
I
like to think the car pulled itself over,
nestled
gently again the verge
like
a dog nuzzling its owner
desperate
for the contact that says “Welcome home”.
In
the stretched silence, this vaulted canopy
satin-stitched
with pulses of light
puts
on a show, photons finishing their
until
now, uninterrupted journey.
As
pupils dilate, the shyer stars
show
their face, refracted flecks of energy,
populating
the sky with distant candles;
a
cloak of wonder, secrets and security.
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