Each night I stand upon my deck
Before I go to bed
The day is done and put away
But thoughts are in my head
I think of all the little things
That made me smile that day
I count them on my fingers
Each tiny in its way
And when I’m done I realize
That nothing is too small
For the feeling of well being
Is the consequence of all
Then in the stillness of the night
As I stand and contemplate
I catch a glimpse of something
Could it be that it’s just fate
That I should spy a shooting star
As it streaks across the sky
So brief the trail leaving
Left seared upon my eye
A fluke perhaps, or meant to be
To witness such a sight
The time and place fortuitous
On a charmed and lovely night night