Stars

I remember looking at the stars with you.  I remember that day when my favorite stars had disappeared.  They were gone.  They were the same stars that were in your eyes, and they were gone too.  I figured they had blown up, maybe shattered like the glass in the window of your car. 

Then I saw you across the water.  You had that fishing pole your dad gave you, that one that you had never used before.  You were reeling in the line.  It wasn't a fish though, you hated fish. 


You were pulling down my favorite stars one by one.  And I don't know why. 

I was yelling at you to put them back.  You didn't though.  And I can tell you miss having stars in the sky.    And I miss the stars too.