Nethergong

We three boys waited that night for the stars to arrive

While our ash damped fire fizzled to a finish,

They tardily attended like reluctant pupils

Attention seeking Vega pin bright -

A hole punched in the black blue paper of the night.

Slowly the others shuffle on late for lessons

Not one then a sudden milky swirl frothing up

And over the cup like classroom hubbub.

We strain, necks cricked until we catch

Ourselves wordless all ashiver.

We stumble torchless to the tent

Only a topped pine in the distance

And the soothing hum of cars speeding late…

A father, two sons,

How many times

Has this scene been seen?

Giving nothing less

Than the universe

And our own

Wonder in it.