White Stars Poem by Luz Hanaii

Summer morning fresh and crisp
the magic that a ride to the country
a young girl brings
the ride on your bike, the air on my face
anticipation of a new adventure lurks up ahead
delightful aroma of wet earth, tumbling rivers
of coffee with cream.

A herd of goats, men on their bikes,
at a distance a man makes bricks
the bus that just passed
hot roaring engine, kicking bits of hot dust
mingled with exhaust
making me squint and drunk with delight.

We ride to The Military City
out where the grass grows wild and
the flowers bloom free
where I run like crazy trying to catch
as many starts, for me
while the dreaded soldiers that
guard the fallen stars attack me.

They zap my legs right through my pants
I don't scratch or stop to rest
if anything, I speed up the pace
to capture more stars is now my quest.

With infinite pride I ride on your bike
one hand holds to your waist
... Oh! ...So many Stars!
as people drive by and turn to stare
a memorable day in my life today.

Once home I scratch and count the bites
of those darn mosquitoes
against my prize
...well worth the pain, swell and itch
while my aunt and mom
wide-eyed can't believe
the amount of stars I did retrieve.

My uncle now, can hardly walk, his ten speed bike
has long been gone, all that remains is a wooden
cane, uncle's only new trusted friend.

No more open spaces, no more fallen stars
I still remember and often asked about the stars
but they're all gone, just like my aunt, gone for good,
gone with progress, gone with time.

It saddens me and makes me cry, when uncle leaves
he'll take with him part of the stars, new generations
will never know...remaining children won't ever see
as the last pictures dwell within me.

Copyrite@2010
Luz Hanaii