the sky looked like ink, no stars, just black; that’s how it began.
the moon did rise – solitary, like in choppy waters a swan
it fluttered wings and sang a song, scattering moondust around’
one by one, stars appeared, like guilty kids – without a sound
tales of betrayal deeply etched on the night sky
but clouds covered the truth – I don’t know why
the sky looked like ink – but chose to be a mute canvas
words flowed from a poet’s pen; that’s how it all began
First Line Friday: May 24th, 2019

Oh my, I was captivated by this, Reena. I feel like it was a different style from you. I especially liked this line…”one by one, stars appeared, like guilty kids – without a sound”.
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Thank you so much, Mish!
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I think of how you find meaning in constellations… it takes a poet to really see the sky.
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Thank you, Bjorn!
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This is excellent!. A solid write. Well done Reena.
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Thank you so much, Rob!
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Love this! ❤️ Especially; “tales of betrayal deeply etched on the night sky but clouds covered the truth – I don’t know why.”
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Thank you, Sanaa!
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❤️❤️
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I love your genesis from a poet’s pen ❤
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Thank you 😀
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You are welcome.
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So many great lines in one small poem. I particularly liked the stars appearing like guilty children – such a great image.
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Thank you so much, Sarah!
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Delightful and intriguing piece, Reena!
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Thank you so much 🙂
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My pleasure! 🙂
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Beautiful!
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Thank you so much!
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You’re welcome 😉
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