If the world becomes so bright
we can't see the stars,
will they become stories
like mythical wars
or old gods?
Or will we—
all of us,
the whole world—
plan festivals—
say, six hours long,
on the sixth new moon
of each bright year—
when we turn off
all our lights—
every single bulb—
and dance quietly
beneath temporary stars?
21 of 30. Happy National Poetry Month!