Feb 24
poem 0 comments challenge: Realize

The Sky, Stars, and... Skunks?

The car door slams behind me as I step out onto the driveway.
The brisk air flows around me, flipping my hair this way and that.
“You can go inside, I’ll be there in a second,” I tell Mom as she sees me walk towards the backyard.
She nods, and leaves the outdoor light on. We’ve been through this before.
I have a fascination with the sky.
Whether it be day or night, the sky has always been there,
never left, and never will.
I like looking at the clouds,
At the beautiful warm colors and hues the sun makes on them.
So many marvelous things come from it.
I like the day sky,
With the blue that can’t be replicated anywhere else,
--not even by that wall paint named after it--
With the white, fluffy clouds strewn all around
like someone had a pillow fight and didn't clean up their mess. 
But more than that, I like the night sky.
There is a special kind of quietness, a kind of beauty that few appreciate. 
That’s why I go into my backyard when I leave the car,
Slipping and sliding on the driveway by the dim light of the porch.
I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since I noticed the sky on the ride home.
As I stood in my half-acre backyard, I crane my neck back to look,
And am greeted with thousands and thousands of faint, little stars,
Dotting the blackness like freckles on a giant face,
Welcoming me back after a long journey home.
The moon is at the center of it all,
an eye of incandescent light surrounded by seemingly smaller ones.
They all look so close, like I could reach out with my hands and touch them,
Grasp them between my fingers and toss them back into the air. 
I got caught up in them, their brightness holding my eyes,
And nothing else seemed to matter.
That was why I didn’t hear the small black-and-white creature approach behind me.
In that moment, I realized that skunks might also like the night sky,
And don’t like anyone else looking at it, either.