Stars Poem by James McLain

To me about you as it counts the stars
and frequently even excessively
mainly there, it is you.
The stars I have known,
have consisted of only one thing,
threes and sevens.
Stars without you,
'That star does not show,
'at all in me-And you look at everything.
When I see, the star dispersed about dawn it sings
of mourning, 'concerning your head.
The star which is you I have not met,
under any condition, therefore as for me,
when I think of that which you spoke concerning you,
however long is the way
and I directly,
'never with you, can I speak of it, 'excessively,
you do not have to appear, yet when you do,
and watching I wait.