Watch the Night

I heard about a shooting star
that, years ago, I'd seen before.
Now it flies 'cross ancient skies,
its ghost afloat my sunset eyes.

I watch through windows every night,
drawing fogged-up galaxies.
They can never stay so long
but I still wait for it to come.

I don't know when, or if it will
but I recall its fiery tail
burning words into my dreams
a truth, more real than anything.

So stay and watch the night I will,
for you, my shooting star, to come.