I miss the vast night sky
of my youth:
a canopy of endless black silk,
pierced by the tiny beams
of a million stars.
When I was a child,
in the flat lands of Ohio farm country,
stargazing was as easy as breathing.
Spread a blanket over the dewy grass,
lie down, and look up.
In this rust belt city,
there are too many buildings and trees.
Garish, glaring city lights
drown the glow from the stars,
crowd out their soft sparkle,
render them invisible.
Stargazing does not exist in the city.
In my youth, stargazing calmed my spirit,
centered my soul, and gave me hope.
The symphony of the night
was a soothing serenade,
a soft mix of silence and sweet serenity.
I wish I could look at the stars with you again.
If I had a second chance,
I would linger there,
bask in the moment with you,
and resist the call
to come in from the night.