Cars race by
the dark ballfield
behind the hedge

Thin light gilds
empty bleachers.
Stargazers look up.

Watching stars dance,
we huddle together
over optics.

Red Mars
caught between
the bull's horns.

Three bright jewels
high above winter's chill
Orion's belt.

Cold hands, cold feet
call the watchers from vigil
A coffeehouse beckons

Winter fog
settles over
silver streets.