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By Arcadian on
Friday, July 22, 2005
Friday, July 30, 2004
I wake at night to the sound of
free falling star-rain,
it never lets up the constant
cosmic downpour on my tiled roof.
I know it began before my time
many light-years ago.
Some star-seedlings sprout in my garden,
under sodium street lamp pollution:
the retina refracts a few
cones of star-light in mid-heaven;
washing out for the naked eye
the abundant starry crop.
Laws of supply and demand
here on Earth, have neon-signs
planted at my doorstep and regulate
to a trickle, the radiant dew drops
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