A A SPRINKLING OF STARS
November night,
a sprinkling of stars
tossed by a hand unseen.
They’ve shifted south,
and I have shifted with them,
following them
to the shore’s edge,
where sleeping on the floor
next to a sliding glass door,
I am awakened to see
brightly covered wagons
slowly moving west
in search of California
dragging Canopus
along the sea/sky line
of demarcation.
November 2009
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