Poem for her 963

Shooing stars

The dark skies lay moonless above our heads

The fire pit was quiet 

The night wasn't cold but we had jackets on

Wooden deck chairs that we had built lay empty beside us

Just her and I in the glade

Just uphill a bit from the cabin

Planned those many years ago

To be a star watching place

She laughed as I heard her camera click

Four at once she said

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.