There used to be few nights where I went inside without pausing to look up. And as I grew older I began treating the stars like people, imagining those I’d loved and lost among them, watching over me. Being alone in the dark still scars me, but I can take comfort in those tiny lights. There is sadness in the idea that some are ghosts of suns long burnt out, but hope in the ones that are just echoes of furious creatures still roaring somewhere in the distance. I like to think of my ancestors and lost friends that way. Echoes still roaring in the distance, just out of hearing.
On frost bitten nights
I stand there thinking of you,
wishing on the stars.
Tonight we’re writing haibuns over at the dVerse Poets Pub so pick up your pen, take a look at the night’s sky and join us at the bar.