A new constellation in the shape
of a division sign could be lined
up if your eye was just off center.
It was wedged between Orion
and the newly waning moon
in a modest swath of sky,
that didn’t even seem that high,
but still was way far off
from any rocket.

At night the kids all said
a prayer that was really just a rhyme
about the times when sleep was hard
to find and the darkness all around
was getting weird.
In the morning they balanced on
their bikes out on the streets
and without knowing it
they killed a day of boredom.

A rain cloud pulsed and grew
over top an empty field
and all the grass was healed
from being trampled by stampedes
of fleeing flocks who had forgotten
how to simply fall in line.
It was the time for something
new to grow from the empty
seats at a dying show.
A light bulb flickered
on the edge of the stage
and the paint peeled like
a waking eye that saw all
as a blur that could never be clear.

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