The Star
west on shabby Agua Fria street
in the solstice dusk
to the village itself
where strands
of blue lights
hang in otherwise
bare trees
and the occasional
solitary star
adorns the roof
of an old lady
whose son-in-law put it up
from this tender portion
of what I call my world
we watch
Saturn and Jupiter
conjunct, appear
as one
while in reality
they are
456 million miles
apart
with you driving
and me
riding shotgun
in the passenger’s seat
Happy new year, Miriam. Marvelous how tge driver/passenger parallel the two planets. Your magic!
Karla
Any poem is fortunate to have you as a reader, Karla!
I love this, Miriam
Thanks for reading!
I love, love, love this poem! It says it all for me.
Oh Lucy–that means a lot to me.