My neighbor fills her winter garden with oaktag cut-outs of red and yellow stars—hangs them from her bird feeder or glues them atop the planting sticks she’s
midwinter night
light from the snow
the stars
through the skylight
only we
can see these stars
his recent poem
carves a canoe from
a tulip tree—starlight
glistens in the spray of
the ebbing tide
tornado siren,
even the stars take shelter
shallow stream
we cross a bridge
of stars
home from the city—
waiting at the station
Orion
Original version published in Shamrock.
no Perseids yet—
just the Milky Way
and a million stars