Stars

a single word
grumbled with pitiless discontent
from a dusky city
where the time doesn't pass as it once did.
cast as jetsam into the apathetic wind
slowly rising over window pane and
tattered canopy
gaining berth and speed and
becoming more than abstract wanderings
the people there don't see it pass:
they watch the snowflakes and the streetlights
they gaze at stars and pay no note to the inconsequential word
praying, praying, praying that their intentions
won't be lost in the even flow of trepidation
that is inherent in a place so lost and morose.
still the humble word elevates,
riding now the gasping easterlies
and clinging with hope as it "farewell"s the dingy rooftops
the dwindling pinpricks of luminous memory
fade one by one as clouds and contentedness
cover their fragile frames.
the icy cold of the altitude will not shiver the word's resolve
it cannot be tarried by any force to climb and climb
upward into the infinite night.
jetstreams choose its path now, a long eastward meandering
to the atmosphere above some undiscovered land.
here it reaches journey's peak
and for one brief glimpse of a fraction of a second
it treads airflow and stands in resilient stagnancy
and shines with untold glory in the burning light of stars.