Sport 27: Spring 2001
Mary Macpherson — Stars
Mary Macpherson
Stars
Stars float down.
They fall
with a sucking
sound.
Are the stars attractive
like this? he asks.
He chooses a star
for her. You have
a big star, he says.
Stars fade
like an old radio programme.
She can never remember
when sleep comes,
or stars tune out.
In the morning
she sees cobwebs.
The stars are
green fuzz.
She mistakes them
for lichen.