Night Sky

Night Sky

I miss the vast night sky 
of my youth:
a canopy of endless black silk, 
pierced by the tiny beams 
of a million stars.

When I was a child,
in the flat lands of Ohio farm country,
stargazing was as easy as breathing.
Spread a blanket over the dewy grass,
lie down, and look up.

In this rust belt city, 
there are too many buildings and trees.
Garish, glaring city lights 
drown the glow from the stars,
crowd out their soft sparkle, 
render them invisible.
Stargazing does not exist in the city. 

In my youth, stargazing calmed my spirit,
centered my soul, and gave me hope.
The symphony of the night
was a soothing serenade,
a soft mix of silence and sweet serenity.

I wish I could look at the stars with you again.
If I had a second chance, 
I would linger there,
bask in the moment with you,
and resist the call 
to come in from the night.

Location! Location! Location!

Location! Location! Location!

Are you buying a house?

From shacks to mansions
and everything in-between,
this poem will help you figure out 
what those "House for Sale" ads really mean.

"Cute and cozy" means postage-stamp size.
A "fixer-upper" means it's a sight for sore eyes.
"Waiting for your own decorating style"
means making it livable is going to take a while.

"Newly painted" means purple and orange from ceiling to floor.
"Inviting" means there are no locks on the front door.
"Quiet neighbors" means it is next to a cemetery.
"A backyard garden" means lots of weeding will be necessary.

"Quaint" means shag carpeting from 1972.
"A river view" means buying flood insurance
is something you'll have to do.
"Spacious" means high ceilings and high heating bills.
"Historic" means old plumbing, no air conditioning, 
and windows painted shut to their window sills.

So, before you sign on the dotted line.
Take my advice and inspect that house well.
You might be surprised by a thing or two,
because there's a lot more to a house
than what those real estate ads will tell.