Stargazing.

You forget about the stars

When the streetlights turn on.

There isn’t much of a difference between the two,

though stars tend to strike more awe;

specks of light in some sort of special array.

Up close they’d probably strike more fear than awe,

But when you look up you never think of the chaos up there.

They’re just still and sleepy souls, as far as your eyes can understand.

You don’t think of them as a billion suns,

You think about the size of your own soul,

How small you must be to the white freckles staring back at you,

A dramatic, glorified chimp with far too many worries,

Worries that might be more important than staring at a sky that never leaves,

But you’ll only remember those worries

At sunrise.

—

xx.