Well here's one, actually it's not quite one, it's a variation on one with a second half mirroring the first. Still, it's close enough. It's my first attempt at this form of poetry. I hope you like it.
a
star
two stars
and then three
more stars, ever more
until the sky begins to burst
but then the light of dawn arrives
to drive off these sparks
replace them
with one
new
fire
I wrote that at a writers group last week. We were supposed to be writing about space in honour of the anniversary of the first moon landings. As we normally write for about forty minutes that particular poem didn't occupy all of it so I wrote another, this time not a fib. It compares a night in the city with a night I spent camping out on the African plains.
Two Nights
Here, now
the sky is empty
and not even black,
merely darker grey.
The stars are gone:
lost in the eternal twilight
of the technological world.
But there, then
the sky was crowded:
a million sequins
in a velvet dome.
The stars eternal
were spirits of the night
and the land was empty.
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