poetry & things

The trailing stars

It is summer, and soon the Perseid showers

I have gone from my desert home

I wander far from crowded towns

my feet here in grassy, bee clover

on a summery hill, all daisy flowered

green, with wild blackberries

awaiting the August sun fire.

Here amid the slowing of mars retrograde

of my lover returning home too late

no long goodbye, only the weight

I watch oceans of seaweed sway

at night the phosphorescence

the lonesome, of sea stars trailing.

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