Gift Poem by Diana Rosser

Beneath a meteor shower in cold November
wrapped in a duvet on an old lounging chair,

stretched out, watching streaks of flaming embers
race across the dark, crystal clear midnight air,

I almost wished upon one bright shooting star;
but checked greed's impulse as I remembered there

a saying my father taught, brought from afar
‘he who wants all misses all'.
so I lived in the moment, given by that star.