Jan Sand (February 2 1926 / USA)

The stars fall down
In infinities of increment,
Each star an evanescent gem.
Unique multitudes to astound
And stultify awareness
With its depths of creativity.

This galaxy accumulates
In my back yard, crushed
In traverse of cats, mice, birds.
It lightly lights on every horizontal
Branch and limb and twig,
Leaps out again at any wisp of wind,
Swirls like smoke to outline
Each dancing whirlwind;
Surrenders, finally, to its love
Of gravity to embrace the ground.

There it lies until an errant winter sun
Inspires its moisture back to spirit,
So to rise invisible back to the clouds,
Revert again to playful hexagonals
That swim in sunlight, fall again.