They Keep Stars
They keep stars
in canning jars
shooting off the sides
of its glass smoothness
a cosmic letter
in a bottomless sea
shooting stars
streaking off the walls
glass holding light
flickering celestial
Morse code behind the safety
of their star-stained cage
lid screwed on tight
a mason jar mystery
as shooting stars
flick flickering
a bottled up night
on a bottomless
ink-rich sea
paradox behind the glass
constellations spinning
canning stars in Mason jars
3 thoughts on "They Keep Stars"
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Mason jars and lightning bugs, no matter how long ago they remain a metaphor for summer everywhere today.
Your poem makes me feel I’m in a planetarium–a tad bigger than an Mason jar.
K. Bruce — Funny thing though, when I first wrote this, I really wasn’t thinking lightning bugs. They sort of showed up a bit later, but I was really mystified by this weird imagery I had bouncing around the imagination of shooting stars being almost canned and kept in old mason jars. A bit of the surreal in the mundane.
Gaby — Just a tad bigger haha. For me, the planetarium is a really magical sort of place, so, I’m really glad I could evoke that kind of feeling with this poem. Thank you.