Winter And The Night Sky Aflame

In last clear winter night I saw red light like a phoenix a light careening downward against the canvas of aphotic sky. Present were the planets which aligned among constellations, passenger planes embarking with clarity out on their own ways. Had they seen it too? or was it a figment of an exhausting mind combined with my unreliable eyes, projecting a spectacle to shake me from malaise, return my sight to players peeking behind the curtain, the world’s stage I put to writing exuberant in image and voice. The comet of some past poet perhaps showing off their place in eternity as if the words were not already enough.