Continents of stars, infinite
stars…Yet I will not bow down
to them. Instead I
will stand in grandeur
like the silver maples whispering
along a favorite path
and arch out my limbs
to gather up their lights in the basket
of my mind.
The stars are as alive in their
rambles as I am beneath their
sharp glories. We are shining
together, we are bioluminescent
in this pregnant night where
no questions curdle about if I matter
or not.
J. Pratt-Walter
NaPoMo 4/1/2022
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