SHOWERED IN STARS
Hi everyone!
Here's a new poem from the other day...went through a bit of a dry spell during the past two weeks and didn't get much out of it. Thought I needed to post something though!
Hey, could you guys let me know who (if you can narrow it down...or come up with one at all) your favorite poet is? I'm putting together a small project for my English 1101 class. I'd be much obliged.
Thanks!
SHOWERED IN STARS
Erin says sometimes she wonders what it might be like
to be showered in stars. She says her yoga instructor told her
to imagine stars falling on her skin the other night.
I’d like to think it feels a little like being rained on
except prettier, but I remember the stars are like planets—
huge, hot, cold, old enough to be characters in stories.
Wanting to feel one land on your skin would be like
asking to wear a tornado or spread the moon on a cracker.
Erin’s dedicated to her practice though, her yoga.
I’m not surprised to see her sitting on the hood of my Subaru
hugging her knees, staring up the sky
like it’ll just be a minute before she understands.
I’m staring at her forehead thinking, rain! it’s like rain!
because at first I think she might be one of those types
who receives telepathic thoughts, but after a while
I realize she’s not, she’s just waiting for a sign.
We can’t even see stars from here. We live in the city.
...
Here's a new poem from the other day...went through a bit of a dry spell during the past two weeks and didn't get much out of it. Thought I needed to post something though!
Hey, could you guys let me know who (if you can narrow it down...or come up with one at all) your favorite poet is? I'm putting together a small project for my English 1101 class. I'd be much obliged.
Thanks!
SHOWERED IN STARS
Erin says sometimes she wonders what it might be like
to be showered in stars. She says her yoga instructor told her
to imagine stars falling on her skin the other night.
I’d like to think it feels a little like being rained on
except prettier, but I remember the stars are like planets—
huge, hot, cold, old enough to be characters in stories.
Wanting to feel one land on your skin would be like
asking to wear a tornado or spread the moon on a cracker.
Erin’s dedicated to her practice though, her yoga.
I’m not surprised to see her sitting on the hood of my Subaru
hugging her knees, staring up the sky
like it’ll just be a minute before she understands.
I’m staring at her forehead thinking, rain! it’s like rain!
because at first I think she might be one of those types
who receives telepathic thoughts, but after a while
I realize she’s not, she’s just waiting for a sign.
We can’t even see stars from here. We live in the city.
...
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