Thursday, August 30, 2012


Past the zenith of the moon,
One by one they call,
A glitter in the night,
How wide is the sky?

Wash the currents of the path,
Swath of starry ways,
Silvered dress you wear,
Why call you milky?

Where is the center?
Is it brighter there?
If I must stare and wonder,
Wonder I that I am here.

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