**stars**

is fine here too this morning
a pinkish tinge with fluffy clouds
only I guess they ain’t fluff when you get up there

and no angels with harps sitting
for they would fall through
and fly or splat down

is like stars have no points really
is all a drawn out myth

mistake

the nicest thing about lighter evenings
is that I can lie in bed and see the big
old planes fly down the estuary and if
lucky
back inland again