The Night Of The Shooting Stars Poem by Denys E. W. Jones

We stood on a Swiss mountainside,
Necks craned, eyes wide,
And stared up at the deep night sky,
To see the shooting stars speed by.

Then nineteen summers down the line,
We sat upon a steep hillside,
And gazed at the Ligurian sky,
To watch more time-pressed stars whizz by.

Almost a score of years, a gulf,
Between those two Saint Lawrence Nights.
They passed quick as a crossbow bolt,
As fast as those unfailing stars,
That shot across the vault.

17/8/12