Shooting Star
Twinkle, twinkle, little star up above, it--
by the toes of Cassiopeia-- dangles
dangerously. It falls in utter silence.
Past the pearl current,
Past the cotton meadow, and past the cosmic
curtain, it falls. Silvery sash-- transparent
glow against the night-- trails behind to dust the
sleeping world with tears.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star, “beautiful,” they
call you, “lovely, heavenly,” banal words which
break your fall to solely ensnare you in wants.
“I wish!” they cry out
To the sky with clasped hands. The blur of shades of
blue fades into murky haze; bright, synthetic
dots replace your companions. Done! They leave. Your
tears, dried, forgotten
by the toes of Cassiopeia-- dangles
dangerously. It falls in utter silence.
Past the pearl current,
Past the cotton meadow, and past the cosmic
curtain, it falls. Silvery sash-- transparent
glow against the night-- trails behind to dust the
sleeping world with tears.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star, “beautiful,” they
call you, “lovely, heavenly,” banal words which
break your fall to solely ensnare you in wants.
“I wish!” they cry out
To the sky with clasped hands. The blur of shades of
blue fades into murky haze; bright, synthetic
dots replace your companions. Done! They leave. Your
tears, dried, forgotten