I gazed at a perfect star
while camping in the desert night.
She danced among fickle clouds,
shinning down into my sight
Her pixie veil holds mysteries of worlds
I've never touched.
Etched upon sky gracefully;
white on black with gold for blush.
All night I watched that perfect star
afraid to look away.
She may run from this night
to find another prey.
Years of age and travels far,
gave in to shame and joy.
But every night I sought that star,
no matter how coy.
Now I am old and she still young,
my only memory whole.
When I die God make me sand
to gaze from this desert bowl.