Cold comradeship do stars provide.They light the closer, inner sideOf night's vast weight, which, chill and clear,Pulls on us like some puppeteer.Its unseen threads to heads and heartsAttached, it acts us through our parts,From birth's first cry to bent old age,Upon our distant, tiny stage.
curling leaves and twining branches outside my bay window look like a Van Gogh in the starlight - there is a river out there somewhere
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curling leaves and twining branches outside my bay window look like a Van Gogh in the starlight - there is a river out there somewhere
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There is no shortage of fault to be found amidst our stars.
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