pete the night was clear, the world was black and white as i walked in the light of a full, or near-full, moon. five planets graced this first clear night since that talk. the trees howled in the wind, the river gurgled past the rapids, and lapped against the banks. i filled myself with nervous energy and continued alone through first oxbow, and then the river trail, after crossing the bridge. i passed by where i walked with my friends earlier in the day; midnight neared as the moon moved from the east to the south. up to where the oak alter, no i go forward, along the unpaved path along the bloated river's edge, over the few snow patches still remaining, and around the mudpuddles. it was bitterly cold, but the cold was enlightening. i talked to myself a little bit, reciting sporatic oral poetry, reminicing to the moon (i give celestial bodies human characteristics after the person who associated themselves with them, or i associated them with. the moon is ann). i heard the water falls coming. i was above the barrier because my normal course was flooded by the meltoff and rain and snow of the last few weeks. i could not sit on the rocks, i had to stand again a manmade barrier. i looked at the sky, in the west. the falls drowned out the city, and only the lights obscured my vision of the heavens. i saw two forming a bar in the north -west, and then one below the further star, this one was bright, not as bright as the planet due west, but bright. i stared at it until my eyes started to tear and then i named it. the ethereal. the tear of heaven. the guide. serendipity. flame of joy. silent smile. the star of the west. the song of hope. meg. i consencrated it with my unfalling tears, and spoke its names (those above and a handful more which i cannot seem to remember) aloud. when this was done, i turned south and walked to the bridge, crossed it, and followed the river back home. when my hands allowed it--it was very cold--i played my harmonica in a slightly happy, slightly sad hymn to the star of the west. it shone when i entered the city again, though i never left it. i saw it through my window above the building directly across from me. sleep came as i whispered goodnight_star_of_the_west, in hope that my silent prayer, my silent hopes and beliefs, were heard by that celestial body so far away, so close to heart. 040406
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