Little Stars

I run on like sentences into night skies
the stars twinkling like bright white lies
I dot each little sparkle with my index finger
and these small spots disappear longer than they linger

Rejoice in crisp mornings widely awoken
the few breaths of the day spent laughing and joking
avoiding these stars, shy and soft spoken
but they reappear by night without a hint of provoking

What do they hold but old light far away?
they follow me by night only to let go by the day
the clouds will part and the skies will open once again
and the little stars will follow the hopes and dreams of men

 

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