Letting the Stars In
I let the stars in through the back door.
They shuffle on padded feet, fill up
the half dark house with their noise.
Things come to their balance
in this vast, awkward place.
How will we know it years from now,
the unimagined, imagined? We wait.
Still the stars are restless
in the kitchen, jingling their collars,
pawing the rug for the right feel.
A comfortable place is all they ask.
So do we.
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