To Bathe Her in the Stars

He looked up at the sky. From the inside of the boxcar there was a perfect rectangle of inky blue-black speeding by. The stars didn’t move an inch.

The North Star just hovered up there in all its majesty like a stoic king, Ursa Major reached its long math across the sky over Kankakee’s rail yard like a Greek god lining up the perfect three-bank billiard’s shot.

He thought maybe if she bothered to look up at the same time–wherever she was–maybe, just maybe, they’d see the same carpet of light at the same time, and that would be a small something.

Her brown eyes were as deep as space. He’d stare into them, wordlessly, and swear he could see comets racing at the speed of his heart.

Published in: on October 10, 2012 at 1:22 pm  Comments (2)  
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