High above the gloom of a valley
shrouded in the orange glow of neon
a misty halo surrounds an old light.
Captivating, white with its bright against
black skies no others dare invade
light enough for now. To lead.
She rises over the distant hill.
Drawing the wonder
Is it brighter on the other side?
The chasm between gapes
as she moves step by step
and we roll ever eastward
her path different.
Later.
Stars return to their place
so many, more than before.
She has gone her way
and I missed the chance to follow yet
like the skies that night I am brighter.
I carry her with me.
Leave a Reply