For National Poetry Day


The stars are markers of the past.

They tell the tales of giants and dwarves.

Their light conveys the stories although

That light has left them long ago.

Just like the boy with a catapult,

Whose lengthy journey through the years

Has stretched out and almost erased

His adventures.

The stars are makers of the past.

They are calling,

My dad,

Every morning.

Every morning as they fade

They invite him

To join them.

The twinkle,

Twinkles in his eyes,

But one day soon,

The stars' delicate light,

Will catapult him,

Into the past.


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