The sun and the moon have given over the field
to the stars
and I am wide awake from listening to the night
and I step out, so close to sleep that, unfiltered, I say,
“Hello, lovers,” knowing exactly whom I’m speaking to but without knowing why.
After a few days of haze and cloud, the sky is crisp and the shine of the galaxy dances and plays and sings.
Jupiter is right there and points to Saturn.
One firefly is still awake in our meadow.
Hello, Tuesday.
Good to meet you.