We’d hear the wild grass
Rustle like a blanket
On a cold summer night
As we watch the stars.
Our mouths turn o-shaped
And I point at the constellations.
You would tap on my shoulder and
Point to the shooting star,
I’d blink and miss it.
You’d groan at just the
Right pitch so that
I would know
You were joking.
You had an odd sense of humor
That always made me laugh.
I loved it when you made me laugh.
It felt different
Than all of the other times.
After a while
We’d fall asleep
With the blankets up to
Our noses.
Fantastic poem!!!!