Sierra July
She spun a
blanket out of dark
Plastered it
with stars and moon,
Small planets,
creamy galaxies
Satellites,
spacecraft or two
At night she
spread her creation
And paid it no
more mind
Because she had
a greater thrill
Marveling at
the faces that gazed
Up at her work
instead
Poet's Notes: While to some night can seem a
frightening time, and often rightly so, I find peace looking up at the night
sky. Thinking of the expression "blanket of night," I wrote this poem
based on a fantasy: Mother Nature weaving stars, moon, and other celestial
bodies (and some man-made space occupants for fun) into the black.
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