Urban Starlight

These dusty ancestors: a matter of faith
when only the brightest still show up
to pierce the tattered clouds, the streetlight haze
tired and perfunctory compared to the blaze
of their mythical glory. They’ve been at it
eons, pulsing dreaming guiding
but now we spin these wheels to power
the night and can offer them retirement
close the book on their song
of glittering mystery


Urban (blank) prompt from Poetic Asides.

7 thoughts on “Urban Starlight”

  1. Oh, this makes me sad, in a heartachingly beautiful kind of way. The whole light pollution issue bothers me, the inability to see planets and stars from pretty much anywhere. I love the rhymes you’ve sprinkled in here – haze, blaze – the terms “dusty ancestors” and “tattered clouds,” and the lyricism in the line, “now we spin these wheels to power / the night.”

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It does feel suffocating, the lack of clear sky available. I had the strange thought that the dimming of the stars somehow coincides with my getting older…and perhaps it really does, in various ways. Thanks for your ever thoughtful and encouraging comments.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I used to live in a suburb of Louisville, Kentucky, and you could hardly see the stars because of the glare from the city. Now I live in central Kentucky, and in the early mornings I can see a lot more stars. This poem was just brilliant.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks very much. I’m glad to know there are still those places where skies are dark enough. I was so fascinated by astronomy as a kid and just realized we should put “dark skies” on our retirement home wishlist.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Yes. For sure. It is always startling go get out of the city (a long way out) and then just look up. Hard to remember all that going on in our day to day light polluted world. 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

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