The birds sang on a black night under a splash of stars and I cried, remembering the curves on his face. Was it crazy?

------

The trees at night hid a pitch sky and I felt urgent. I needed to pant and kiss and move. Red spots slung low in the night drew a strange shape. Lighted lanterns. They drifted above the banquet hall to celebrate or remember and from hopeful hands they wandered up and up and sat over the trees and I wondered if the big dipper had grown swollen and fallen.