About the Author

Laura Burkhart

Books by this Author

Night Light

At sunrise even the morning star sleeps.
All those twinkles gone: each name,
trajectory, history overwhelmed
by dawn. Now they slumber like cows

in the pasture while we fill our days
with other escapades that keep
us from remembering the awe.
We go about our lives as if our sun

were an only child, this earth the only
spinning orb, our petty irritations,
thoughts, opinions, the only ones
that matter. Last night even the wind 

held its breath, windmill ceased to spin,
when the sky dropped its jeweled cloak,
gentle hymn of cows, the stars,
duet of light.

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