© Gloria Smith 2010
In moonlight everything becomes a sculpture
In its magic, questions are punctuated with exclamation points of awe
In searching the infinity of Heaven in a night sky
An Atheist thinks of God & wonders
The night haunts me like a phantom
All her stars belong to me
I own them every one
My eyes are lit with the scattered star dust of countless ages past
You walk in my mind; my heart - just out of touch...
GLO
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