Ticket for Weaver's Star bus

See Weaver's wonderful prompt over here, deceptively simple

Here's my ticket

Coast on a Summer’s night

And once, the sky was so low down

we almost heard the stars

the further out, the more they were – fanned rough up on the ceiling

of everywhere there was – and they went

giggling on their way - scraped loose on jagged mountains

as they rushed fast, ignoring us, those gaps in black

so cold for all their fire.

.

Sand land was kind, it gave us shelter in a bed of marram,

safe from a wind that bit with bitter lemon thin cut edges

our view from there - forever lights

strange twinkling from the past – with no nostalgia, no details,

their secrets frozen clasped.