Across the sky a streak of light,
a shooting star, a meteor.
Against the darkness of the night,
a sight I’ve often seen before.
I sometimes wonder where they’ve been.
Before they’re caught by gravity
and forced to play their final scene
and burn out spectacularly.
Each one I’ve seen was similar
and yet unique in its own way
A meteor or shooting star.
In its last moments would display
its signature across the sky
A rather splendid way to die.
25-Mar-09
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem