The stars don’t come out…

April is National Poetry Month but it’s also Global Astronomy Month, declared so by Astronomers Without Borders and who am I to argue?

City LightsFrom the Poetic Asides blog:
For today’s prompt, write a seasonal poem. This should be a snap for haiku poets; after all, inserting seasonal words is a rule for the form. However, you don’t have to write haiku to write a poem that references or happens in one of the four seasons: Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter. Pick a season or include them all.

The stars don’t come out…

The sundial ticks down to twilight,
hand growing ever longer as the Earth turns.
The stars don’t come out, they’re always there.

Each night of the year, we see a different half of the universe:
the Great Square of Pegasus through falling leaves,
Orion the Hunter and his dogs in bright cold skies,
Boötes the Herdsman with yellow Arcturus among the buds
and the Summer Triangle, appropriately enough, in Summer.
A Lyre, a Swan and an Eagle skinny dipping in the Milky Way,
no longer visible to most, thanks to city street lights,
the stars don’t come out but they’re always there.

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About Bartholomew Barker

Bartholomew Barker was born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough, North Carolina where he makes money as a computer programmer to fund his poetry habit.
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3 Responses to The stars don’t come out…

  1. I’ve been ruminating on this fact as well–that the stars (and the darkness) are always there.

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