So quiet under the stars , always under a variable night, muffled warm under such a stillness.
Yet a breath can be seen rising disappearing
then taken by possibilities of the edge star of a constellation
which on a clear evening would instill an ancient myth.
So quiet under the unseen stars, night after night
a quiet touch in the marrow.
A fireplace smokes a tendril which finds the ceiling grey night.
So quiet under the stars, a heart can be heard,
possible stars allow the stillness piercing through.
Oh so much stillness, listens to your thoughts that ride a slow wind that comes from where you remember the pole star resides. Always under a variable sky, standing upon this earth.
There is a part of mankind that landed on a comet so quiet above these unseen stars.
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