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With  a crisp sky
and  temperatures dropping
there was a prediction of thirty an hour
streaking through the air
as if on a mission, flashing revelations
in brilliant shades.

The moon turned in early,
jealous of the competition, or
maybe just taking a night of R & R,
really not much opportunity
for a lunar vacation
so who can blame him?

It was a show to be unmatched
the astronomy buffs said and so
I opened the shed, rummaging
through web and dust to find
the aluminum lawn chair; the same one
that waited in the rain to see the Perseids
that never showed.

That should have been a warning,
an ominous omen, but I’m an optimist
famous for believing
in what I want to happen, and so
I sat, skin freezing to the aluminum,
head locked in a most unnatural position,
eyes tilted skyward.

The heavens as clear as a calm lake,
the air a harbinger of Hell froze over
as in forty minutes just two tired stars
fell from the horizon. Apparently
mourning their own demise
they were neither fast nor dazzling.

Considering my lack of success
with skywatching, and the frightful state
of the economy, I’m seriously considering
resignation from the local astronomers’ club
but I guess I’ll wait, at least until December.
They say the Geminids
are going to be super this year.