Most people saw images. People, animals, objects and then they made stories about them.
Not Papa. Papa only saw words among the luminaries once the skies grew the dark.
She walks in the street of the sky, Night walks scattering poems, calligraphy in the stars.
That is what Papa told me when I was young.That above our heads are words among the stars.
Reams of poems of Night.
Shooting stars? Line breaks. Comets? An exclamation.
Pictures were for those too young to read. He taught me how to read them as well.
To read the sonnets, couplets, quatrains and meter that falls from Night’s fingers to the firmament she treads giving Luna teasing nudges to see who notices her offerings.
It is why when you ask me what in doing as I gaze into the diamond dotted indigo skies I answer, just reading.
dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Prosery: Tulips & Chimneys
Tonight at dVerse we’re challenged to write a prose piece of no more than 144 words including the prompt.
Today’s prompt which comes from Tulips & Chimneys, by e. e. cummings and is the last line of IX- Impressions:
“In the street of the sky night walks scattering poems..”
We may alter the punctuation, but we must use the line in its entirety without inserting any other words.