The velvet darkness hums with gentle glow
of star-shaped flowers
that cut my running feet.
The night is young.
I ran away from home.
No time to think if it's a folly
or a feat.
No baggage taken,
no regrets,
no fear.
Just dashing through the night sky
like a flash.
To run.
Escape.
Forget what you held dear.
Wait for the dawn
to break
and turn the night to ash.
Don't weep for me.
Don't wait for me and squander
whatever little time you have on thinking where I roam.
A shooting star has centuries to wander.
I wonder
if it ever finds
its long-sought home.