The line of starlight is curved
and carries news about the past;
a star-reporter saw the light and swerved
around the corner of first and last.

Fire flings sparks among the stars,
while thoughtful women dance around,
loud, laughing men and old guitars
sing something ancient and profound.

I saw smoke above the skyline,
when I looked into your eyes
and there was night behind the sunshine,
cold stars that hated the sunrise.

I suppose that your alien mother,
when she taught you the alien law,
and in spite of a tendency to smother,
always knew how to eat her meat raw.

Light-years away are unknown places;
the truth just can't be seen from here,
but - hey - it's all wide-open spaces
and I'm a foot-loose pioneer.

11/17/2008