We climbed up
Old Snake Hill,
and sat at the top,
under a ripening July sun.
The trees whispered,
secrets and ancient truths,
that we have long forgotten
amongst the city hum.
We sat in silence,
because the sky in summer
doesn’t need words.
The Sun burns out
in a flash of bright fire,
that paints the sky
in wild, childish strokes.
Colors,
gaudy and garish.
Unfit almost,
for the firmament.
Then, as the atmosphere
seems to cool;
the light fades
to blues again,
before darkening
into rich, lush violets,
shadow hues,
and soon,
we are in darkness.
Not for long, now;
for this far out,
away from the diode bright,
the full face of the Moon
gilds the night sky with silver.
The Dog Star,
shines alongside its master;
Orion, The Hunter.
Soon, the star fields,
and nebulas,
peek out
from beyond space and time,
to join us in our silent repose.
Bringing out the blankets,
a little wine,
some food,
and huddling close,
we share a moment
under the celestial host.
Maybe we catch
a shooting star.
Maybe we make a wish.
Maybe it comes true,
and this moment
lasts
forever.
HG – 2020
