when you look at the night and the Night looks right back at you
“From the Sun to the Moon and back”
From the luster of the day
To the dimness of the night.
From the deepest dream
Back to the bliss of light.
Paddling through the cold waters,
Following the stars,
With the Guardian Angel
The Falling Star
I saw a star slide down the sky,
Blinding the north as it went by,
Too burning and too quick to hold,
Too lovely to be bought or sold,
Good only to make wishes on
And then forever to be gone.
Sara Teasdale, 1884 - 1933
In the abandoned bird house lived a little golden haired fellow. When stars fell into the pound he pulled them out and dried them on the tree branches before releasing them back into the sky. There are so many falling stars on the suddenly chilly nights.