So many trillion burning stars form the signs of night.
Most of them so secret that they are out of sight.
Others are so numerous, they form a sort of haze,
spreading out a Milky Way at which we like to gaze,
lying spread-eagled in the grass, during summer nights,
cockleburrs’ sharp edges and mosquito bites.
The chattering of mothers on our screened front porch,
feline yowls and dog barks, Father’s questing torch,
seeking out the faucet to turn the water off.
A roar of laughter from the men, a smoker’s raucous cough.
All the familiar voices of our little hive—
the neighborhood we live in, cozy and alive.
All the roles we choose to fill united for this night
when the stars have chosen to bless us with their light.
For The Sunday Whirl Wordle 530 The prompt words are: edge, stars, roar, burn, role, chatter, hive, sign, feline, curse, haze, secret. Image by Andy Holmes on Unsplash.
What a lovely poem Judy.
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A strong sense of nostalgia in this one!
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Those summer nights looking up at the stars are certainly strong memories for me.
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