stars with a dead tongue

they do not
know the darkness.
how the light can fade
into coptic
and all conclusions
drawn unreasonable.

pale words cave,
ave surprises carved
in stone from hollow stems
no longer native,
motionless as time
caught in dry gases
of exhausted stars.

today I write
with inspiration—
careful to dream
on a cusp of night,
knowing that all stars
are not the same
and never so far away.

bydk 02/24/20