The Stars

-

 I

It is bitter cold

My cold is bitter

Yet I stand on the open 

Terrace, watching the stars.


So far away from us; mere pinpricks

 on the grand canvas of space and time

Yet so profound, so numerous…


They make me forget my miserable,

puny, mortal problems.


II

The smoke from cars rise

Buildings, factories, ugly

Human creations vomit smoke

into the cool dark air


Now there are no stars

They have lived their 

twilight existence

And now they are gone

Probably forever, from the sky.



I want to see the hordes of stars

but they have died

In my city’s sky-

killed by the smoke.



P.S. At the suggestion of a neighbor, I started reading the beautiful works of Mary Oliver. This is my first venture into free verse inspired by Ms. Oliver, which I haven’t stepped in before, because I thought it was against the spirit of poetry. But after reading her works, I understood that free verse is not a disgrace to poetry, but rather a wonderful addition to it. When I wrote this poem, I felt unrestrained by the rhyme scheme, and the feeling was indescribable- like a bird out of a cage. I hope to explore this form in subsequent compositions.


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