The milky way a thick slush, the braille
of pine needles already frosting
toward a paler morning.
Ice-crystal stars piercing
the old phrases new again -
midnight clear, wondering awe.
Your breath near-luminous
against sheer dark.
The stillness opens ... as though
some new sound traveling through space
is about to arrive.
Makes you wonder how the open secret of deep-
rinsed skies can remain unnoticed, night
after night after year;
how long the new star had really been there,
waiting for its light to reach the world.