A new constellation was born last night.
It tore the skin on the sky.
Ripped it really,
before bursting free into the void,
no longer sheltered in the womb of nebula.
Will its brightness matter
among the other countless dots
that splatter the dead sky?
Or did the higher power’s paintbrush
simply get a bit too wet
on its way to glossing another masterpiece?
Artwork: “New Constellation” Juan Miro
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
wondrous and whimsical 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, John. I’m sorry it’s a late response. I love your alliterative response. 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wondrous indeed. I especially love the first stanza.
LikeLike
Great poem. I love the magic of the night sky. It’s fascinating.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Hobbo. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a lot of night sky, but I’m hopeful soon.
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂
LikeLike