August Evening Walk

I walked the Midtown streets in search of meteors tonight
But of course how foolish was I
For the city sky was much too bright
Still, the evening air was a cool delight
And I did find glowing orbs hung up high

There were the retrofitted street lamps — diodes casting antiseptic white shine
There were their aging sodium cousins — wistful and yellow to the sight
There was a ghostly green softball — popped high for a sacrifice fly
Launched with a crisp “crack” in the park I walked by
There were the roof-top flood lights — awakened by my passing stride
Spooking on-duty cats with their lantern eyes

All throughout, the bats chirped and the crickets chimed
A yard dog would bark from time to time
While ideas for these rhymes filled my mind

As my walk neared its end I again looked to the night sky
I found the half-Moon, supervising Mars, Saturn, and Alpha Scorpii — 
Its empty slice reminding me of last Sunday’s lemon buttermilk pieight 
I cried a bit inside, missing the meteors (and the pie)
Now I hunger for a desolate beach, full of stars to howl under — to reclaim my celestial rights