we heard them talking about a meteor shower expected later that night highly anticipated set to accompany the rust red supermoon that we caught following us home
lay down upon blankets a meagre effort to provide at least a little comfort while we witnessed this astral magnificence the significance of which none of us was certain childishly imagining a spectacle from the dazzling of shooting stars trailing tails like fireworks pointing in wonder appearing briefly before burning out
instead we found ourselves staring up at one of those countless spots of white slowly unenthusiastically drifting across the stratosphere it could be a meteor maybe just an aeroplane or simply a twinkling trick of the light yet still we watched without excitement without direction without relevance
The moon was ready to write a poem for her I was in her symphony She was in my lyrics We share our ideas together Cause it makes us healthier She burns my waste thoughts I give her a new situation to shine
Crashing oceans, hypnotic slow motion. Tides rolling onto shore. She dances under the super moon, Wild and timeless. Connected to the universe, She breathes in the stars, as the wind plays with her hair, And my how she out shines the sky.