Under Starry Skies


At camp we place our cots
on damp grass at night
outside our tents.
Crickets chirp in the cool air,
a breeze floats over us,
we’re comfy under covers.
After gabbing and giggling,
we settle down and study
the black sky brimming
with sparkling stars brighter
than mom’s diamond ring,
Aunt Matty’s rhinestones.
Tonight, stars multiply
almost hiding the sky.
We look for the North Star
and The Big Dipper.
In the city, I’ve never seen
such a gem-filled sight.
Gail is crying in her tent,
still homesick.
I wish she would join us. 
The stars would make her smile. 
In my head, Roy Rogers sings
under starry skies above.
I try to stay awake
I want to gaze at the moon
‘til I lose my senses
I don’t want to sleep.
I want to stare, stare
at the starry sky,
stare at the starry sky.