Of Stars and Stockings

The time of year to go flying to anywhere and nowhere. The time of year to dream
of far away places, somewhere warm and leisurely with no snow to shovel (if you live in the Northern Hemisphere). You can’t get much further away than the stars, good to walk on, or eat …

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OF STARS AND STOCKINGS

I walk woollen-socked                                            
stars falling from heels
raining through haloes of colour
red, gold, ultramarine, yellow
puce, amber, lime, scarlet…
scatterings of improbable snow

I pick stars, taste them —
honey and lemon
vinegar and rosemary

planets crack in my hands
sing in my head
ragtime and ocean-waves

my feet flamenco
under the Hunter’s hand
the Great Bear bows to me

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first published in Alternative Harmonies

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