Satin Black

Standard

The collection of Stars
Was not Midnight Blue
The trees encompassing us Reinz Green
The lights Lipstick Red
My father said “Give me your hand”
I walked across the ice and into the grass
A wall, now night, completely covered in Studs
There were haunting glints on the forest, quite distinct
My father and I spoke briefly about the food
And the wine (neither of us cared for the wine)
The forest was frozen Reinz Blue and Rice Brown
Now it was too dark on the path
“I don’t have my flashlight!”
“We don’t need one” he said with laughter
About the sky he sang songs
In Polish and I sang with him

“Wait look” I whisper and tug his jacket.
“What?”
“Look at it” I say gasping
The North Star was the only one I could name
The Big Dance
But I loved all the little ones
Which are obviously gargantuan
They were infinite
I didn’t want anything
Didn’t want warmth
I didn’t want a shooting star
Although my father mentioned a telescope
I mentioned buying a family star that’s at least six hundred years old
Because there are Six of Us
I wanted but could not explain
To my father what the fabric was in Polish

And as we continued listening to nature
And seeing the world frozen for the year
The marvel of evergreens
The lights
The sand and the lingering burning odors
Of someone doing something curious
I knew one thing For a fact
Too bad this would not be on the math test
I knew
The sky
It was
Satin Black

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