Saving Shooting Stars

for Rosanna

back
to the Ozarks–
the plan
spring creek
skinny dipping
in July
hidden
from the road

like teenagers we
hurry our shorts back on
when we hear
gravel crunching
laugh when
the car passes

on Wednesdays
we will write poems
of youth
paint wildflower
landscapes
of mountains
faded barns
forgotten farms
of cedar hills
that never end

on Sundays
we sip green tea
on front porch
Adirondacks
eyes closed to the sun
whisper to God

evenings
before the whippoorwills
sing
we will once more
count shooting stars
hide them
in a mason jar
and love under a
hillbilly moon

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5 Responses to Saving Shooting Stars

  1. johemmant says:

    Oh them were the days………love the close.

  2. Bob says:

    Oh, how I remember that gravel crunching… better than a burglar alarm! This really takes me back…

  3. Paul says:

    Beautifully conjured sense of place with all the resonance that is required to individuate it, evoke its emotional and personal resonance and relevance,

  4. Scot says:

    Thanks all–

    looking forward to it

  5. nectarfizz says:

    (smile of poet bliss)

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