Awaiting Nighttime Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

A lonesome moon and a lone star were talking way overhead,
looking down and feeling the emptiness that most people
dread.

Little stars were popping in and out, playing, twinkling
with no doubts that one day they'd receive their time to
talk to the moon about darkness.

Wanting reasons for their being there night after night,
swimming in a dark blue sky, awaiting nighttime, feeling
somewhat shy.

They all stood there for an eternity, claiming the right
to be heard by people's silent, watching eyes.

Knowing enough about patience, that life became a pastime
to do with what they wanted.

Sending messages through the sky to become one with the
darkening dawn of night.