Goodnight Constellations

Connor Glowacki
A boy runs out from his familys cabin,
And wings on feet he flies
Through the woods
To a clearing away from leaves and oil lamps.
On his back the grass kisses his neck and he re-adjusts his legs;
Hands behind his curly head of hair
He watches heaven poke through the sky
As thousands of angels eyes peer down from above.
The hours go by the as the lights tilt around the tree line,
And the boys head tilts to the side
As he falls asleep.

A girl steps outside her house barefoot,

Neck careened upward and toes in the grass.
Mouth agape
She squints her eyes to make out
Hundreds of stars drifting,
Giving the Earth an occasional sparkling glance.
She spends a few minutes connecting dots,
Making broken constellations,
Then her mother sends her to bed.

A man gets out of his car and shuts the door.

He brings up his hand to shield them from city lights.
He peeks above his fingers and sees a few pinpricks of lights,
Backs turned and
Glimmering amongst the building tops.
He blinks, examines his watch,
And walks inside.