Stars

Mind like an acrobat
She sways precariously back 
and forth with the constant influx of travelers
Who never seem to stay more than a night
Part with their cynical phrases
And compare her to a trapeze

She is the calico feline that hides
In the woodpile for fear of being known
The nights have long since turned frigid
The aroma of death
Is what gives her away
Too late now to be saved

Imperfections in the sky 
Draw weary eyes to gaze upon them
Amplified in the freckles on her face
Pinpricks on the vast unknown
Flaming balls of unknown chaos
Look like stars to the naked eye
Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Poem

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Mcintosh Avatar
August 21, 2020 at 8:26 AM
Wonderful words. God bless you with many more
Evans Avatar
August 14, 2020 at 6:50 PM
The line "the calico feline that hides In the woodpile for fear of being known" is so rhythmic.
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