Starburn
June 27, 1983
Starburn is more poignant than sunburn, I know, for I have stood vulnerable before both noon and dusk, have watched the last husk of light leave the east and the first pilgrim of a feast of stars pay tribute like one egret feather of snow referencing an aeon moor of taupe mist. Sunburn is dispersed - hot radiance flowing everywhere, but starburn like the first fledgling orphan of snow is a point of light that impinges on a wick of heart and illumines a luffing sail to steer for true north.