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Just Past 11:00 P.M.

Updated on October 12, 2009

credit photo to: NASA Hubble telescope

Night waits just past
the final caress
of a weary sun,
on the shoulder of
a distant horizon.

Clouds will bleed
orange and gold,
at its passing,
and stars will poke holes,
in the dark blanket
that covers us.

These tiny suns
will make up for
our own suns absence,
forming lovely patterns
in the sky.

Dreams will be poured
generously from the
Big Dipper,
for the older souls,
and from the little
dipper for the young.

Meteors will sail
in long streams across
the Milky Way,
only to be swallowed
in the depths
of a bottomless space.

Planets cold,
dead, and distant
will cast their
jealous, cratered eyes
on Earths gleaming jewel,
teeming with life,
as it leaks dreams
back into the heavens.

There each dream

will be flung into
fantastic tales hooked,
on the ends of comets,
sending what's left
to be spun into the blended,
multi-gleaming rings of,
Saturn, Neptune, and Uranus.

"Goodnight America,
Godspeed to a restful sleep."




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