The sea at night, all black
yet distinguishable from the day,
all black.
Close above the sea: a vertical sickle
a flame yellow waxing moon —
and right above the moon;
a chrysanthemum yellow star,
the evening star.
All in a straight line —
so we wondered if this happens
every night or once a century,
we wondered while
the sea swayed, the sky shifted
the moon turned, the star slipped.
And there was no time
for a photograph —
no time, so we watched,
sleepless through the night
unable to lie still
unable to stop talking...
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