Descending the mountain in darkness,
The horizon catches my stare —
An alarming red line before the deep
Color of night.
My tired eyes wander haphazardly
Meandering in the direction of the zenith.
The sky can hardly be called “dark”
For it is much too bright,
Alight with stars.
I can see myself soaring,
Arms open, like Peter Pan,
Holding an open jar.
A jar for stars.
Orion will be missing his belt tonight
Because it will be lighting my room
In a pale, muted, white-blue glow
Along with Leo’s paw and Pegasus’s wing
And Draco’s head,
And hundreds of other pinpricks of light.
I’ll bring them back to earth
In this little glass jar
And keep them in my room.
Right there, next to the bed
So I can always see my
Jar of stars.