Tonight, with its blue moving stars
and mars overhead, in its bright blinking red
the breezing leaves upon the rooftop eaves, calling
a falling star, impossibly high catches the eye, while dying
and I dream to fly, flit and roam amid night's celestial home
but with tethered feet, can only gaze upon the sky, to drink
in the space within my mind, I try to be and not to think
but feel the distant seas, that crash in waves and never cease
the endless ages, ancient and modern ways of humanity
and tonight, I imagine you out there lying soft upon the grass
tracing the dying stars, reflecting on the things that have come to pass
knowing very soon I too, will leave in summer.