the stars have dimmed their tired hearts
a smudge of wanting coats their edges
they beckon with whispers too faint
for us to hear beyond our noise
somebody go—bring cloth and care
scrub the heaviness that dulls their light
the birds grow restless beneath their dust
and the sky aches for something bright
we’ve stolen enough of the world below
let us not forget the world above
someone must heal the wounds of sky
lift it back to the glow it craves
who else will tend to what doesn’t speak
but still feels its sorrow in quiet hues
polish the stars as if our lives depend
on their brilliant love washing over us