From the comfort of this place
I sit waiting for Capella
to take its place.
Bright in darkest hour
I imagine sitting waiting
for words to shoot out
like neighborly stars.
So many light years away
and yet I believe
wishes do come true
even when writing a poem
to no one.
Listen closely enough you’ll hear
repeated sighs and pleas
as I sit waiting for you
to appear.
Ignited 