My Starry Night

I watch from my site
which is rockin' chair upon my aunt's porch
Stars mounted high in the navy sky
Kings from centuries gone by.
All I smell is wood and stain
Round barrels rolled up cut from fields of dried hay
Soldiers resting after a summer war against sun and wind
And I think

First of the emptiness of the world
Second of the Stars
Many more than can be seen near the city sky
Legions of layers and different shades.
Yellows – Bright or Pale. Pinks – Yellowed or Silvered.

Lost in the view
Alone and somehow completely at peace.
In the grand scheme of things,
I am still a part of it all
sitting here in a wooden rockin chair.