Starry Starry Night

A haibun

I`ve known misty skies without stars, like the best of them, when night glows a pale yellow smog above a city landscape of crooked roofs and tall spires. It is as if the sky itself could be mined, so thick is the acrid soot at times. But at other softer moments, on a sparkling clear winter night, perhaps, or a fresh spring night after the rain, it is diamonds I see, waiting to be plucked.

starry night for some
after all there is no room in the gutter
for everyone