Every day that year
I would look up at the sky
At night it was black and blue
With white stars
Glowing bright above
The Marfa lights
The streetlights glowed
Bright and bold
The leaves were red and orange
And the air was crisp and cold
And every time it was the same
It was bright and bold but
Peaceful
Posted in response to the challenge PAST CONTESTS: Autumn '24: Writing. See Award Winners and All Submissions.
There’s a dog that sits on the end of my street—
he barks at anyone that nears,
snarling teeth that glow shiny in the afternoon light.
There’s a dog that sits on the end of my street—
You asked me to stay
As you gazed into the future
Longing once more
I am not a poet
I don’t know how to use my words the way they can
I can’t captivate the minds of my friends by stringing them along with the simplest of words
I am not a musician
Comments
I remember first hearing about the Marfa ghost lights on Unsolved Mysteries, years ago! Fascinating, and a fascinating way to contextualize the beauty of the season, too.
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