My Bright Star Poem by Mark Heathcote
My Bright Star
Lie down, my dark star.
Heaven must sleep and be fecund.
Only in my imagining,
do stars light up and never wizened?
Lie down, my dark star.
My horizons have swollen in a fish
that swallows the sun
and sinks; with its scales silver dish.
Lie down, my dark star.
The ivy has clawed its bright sky
like a green sword, it wishes
to swathe down my bright star until I die.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/20/2025 5:21:03 AM # 1.0.0
