The Big Dipper

Poetry
Mount Rushmore Under The Blue Sky... A Beautif...
The breeze sweeps through the window,
awakening me. I look through the open blinds
and can see the stars.
Tonight they are bright and clear.
Sleepily, I see the Big Dipper and
am reminded of when I was 9 years old and I
slept outside on hot summer nights.
I would always look for the North Star first
and when I found North Star I would draw
an imaginary line down the sky
until I found  the star
that was the upper right corner of the ladle.
Then, with my eyes,  I would connect the dots
to make the ladle and,
as it became clearer,
I connected the three stars
of the handle. Then there it was,
The Big Dipper,
appearing to me clear as day.
After I found it, got that task out of the way,
I would hunt for other constellations.
Sometimes I would see satellites
and shooting stars,
if I was lucky.
One of those hot Summer evenings
when I had a sleepover
my friend Holly instructed that  the
stars are very old,
thousands of years, and that it takes that long
for the light to get to earth
and by the time I was seeing the light
of the star it was already dead.
I had no idea if this was true
but was fascinated
and thought about it
as I stared up into the stars
and drifted off to sleep.