Tweaking The Old Stuff

I wrote this one wrote a long time ago, about that boy from long ago. The version below is slightly modified. I still like this one. It's quiet.

Star

I love you.
Is that too much to say?
Too soon to say it?
I do.
Every time I see you
I say it.
Softly,
under my breath,
so you barely know.
Mouthing it to myself.
A prayer.
Like the Hail Marys I whisper
while kneeling in an empty church
on any given afternoon.
Like when I'm walking home
and see that first star.
Star light,
Star bright.
Only you're that star.
That far off thing
I wish could bring me
what I want.
And I lie here,
knowing you're
lying with her,
praying to her,
wishing on her,
mouthing in her ear.
I wonder if she knows
she's your star
or that you're mine.


Daisy C. Abreu
3.31.1996
revised 10.22.07
for jpb