Christine Joyce

Under the Stars

Bags packed,
Tickets kept safe until morning.
Under the roof,
My family sleeps,
Dreaming of the
Changes the daylight will bring.
But I am not in there.
 
Lying on the pavement,
I breathe in the chilly January air.
Staring up,
I scan the star- freckled sky,
Searching for the perfect one
To make a wish on.
I’m holding onto that childhood idea
That wishes on stars really do come true,
Because it keeps me going.
 
With an outstretched hand,
And squinted eyes,
I point my finger
In just the right way,
Making myself believe that
I am actually touching a star.
It lasts only a minute,
But for that brief moment,
It is almost as if
Everything makes sense.
 
It is unexplainable
Under the stars.
Gazing up at the never-ending sky.
The twinkling against black,
Taking in the beauty,
And taking a break from reality.
Feeling as if anything is possible.
So many hopes and dreams
Free to be explored
In this little world I have created.
 
And then a car horn,
Rustling leaves,
A voice in the distance,
something
Brings me back
From this dream-like state
To my real world,
And to a life that’s headed
Somewhere beyond my knowledge.
For the moving trucks carried away
More than my possessions a couple hours ago,
They carried away my life.
And I have yet to find out where it’s going.
 
Lying there
In the middle of that night.
The night before my life changed.
Absorbed in thoughts,
Overcome with fear, uncertainty,
And the urge to turn around.
But with a deep breath
Those feelings soon disappeared,
And when the shooting star passed above,
I wished,
And I believed.
 
Under the stars
I knew things were going to be okay.




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