longing

We were night owls. We worked hard, partied hard after dark. We pub crawled, we drank. We loved the booming bass lines of live bands, the husky, sultry serenades of sexy songbirds. We loved bright shirts, loud colours, and sometimes we weren't sure which smell was stronger on our polyester, the cologne or the alcohol.

But above all, above us, we loved watching the stars. I tried to tell her that stars are just balls of fire, tried to explain to her about light years and the doppler effect and such. It's not very romantic. And she just smiled. To her, the stars are just jewels in the sky, mysteries not to be solved. So I just tried to point out to her, the Dog Star, the Big Dipper, and the stories behind the names, with what limited knowledge of the stars that I had. We would sit at the breakwaters, the piers, at the esplanade, the beaches, or the benches of city parks, looking up, sometimes her head on my shoulders.

But no more. She passed on, you see, a star herself, snuffed out. Is there a star less then? I can't tell, there are too many. Maybe the stars mirror us. A star extinguishes, someone loses a loved one. Maybe there are other star-crossed lovers like us, over the dark expanses, looking up at their night skies. Maybe there are wars being fought out there. Maybe the light I saw, was us a lifetime before.




pencil sketch by dsnake1







longing



if i could pluck the stars
put them in a jar
will you come back to me?


11/04/2013
**********

---

I am sorry the preamble is longer than the poem. But I thought I will let the reader have some background of what or who, inspired this poem. This was written for NaPoWriMo 2013, and it wasn't getting enough eyeballs at my other site. I wrote the preamble specially for this post. Oh yes, and the drawing too.


Shared on Poetry Pantry #153 at Poets United.

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2013