I am caught up

Remembering our laughter

In the shadow like half darkness

Of our orange flowered room.

Your stories were the calm

In the storm.

Your songs

Muted out all else

Drawing me in

To the sanctuary

Of their melody.

We often left

That little nest

Two sit out and watch the stars

On a summer night.

Sometimes they seemed so close

Shimmering like

Fireflies. I

used to think that the Greek gods and godesses

Were watching us from the cavernous sky

Waiting to turn us into muses.

Or into stars

On summer nights.

J. Hamilton


One thought on “stars

  1. Pingback: stars | Le cose piu belle (the most beautiful things)

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