indigo to black,
a proud electrum star and
moon-sliver shine through
-------
II.
i love the blues as they fade
but don't quite reach black
and the stars
OH, THE STARS!
the glorious shattering of stars on a clear night!
and the bright ones on a background of gun-metal blue as dusk falls.
and the moon when it's full,
especially the huge harvest moon,
shining not-quite-orange --
as if a jack-o-lantern's candle
had swallowed the whole pumpkin.
or almost, but not quite, new
shining with a sliver of bright
hope of its monthly crowning glory
or a last ember, dying away.
the dark orb always sitting,
waiting patiently for its turn to not-shine.
the ancients made the constellations,
the patterns in the sky,
naming them Orion or Taurus or Pleiades or Pegasus,
inventing stories to explain,
what they could not touch.