((Title has no correlation to post other than that those lyrics are running through her mind.))
Even in the classroom, it's difficult to fathom. Three thousand stars visible in this hemisphere to the naked eye. How many more? Placed by God, swore all the early astronomers. Yet that thought seems more manageable indoors.
"They're imaginary," he says of the constellations. "But aren't they beautiful?"
Like you, I think.
Stars overhead in the deep blue celestial sphere. I haven't a clue where Polaris is (though I get to search for it as homework -- Kelsey, next summer we can truly find constellations on your front step!). How can sense be made? They seem scattered so randomly, everywhere, everywhere. Harvest moon holds steady. So close tonight. Clear, austere grey and white. Amazing.
Placed by God, indeed.
I glance for cracks in the sidewalk, but my soul's on the stars.