The boy set off in the tired night
And stared up at the moon through the branches of his maple
And started off slow
He ran from pool of light to pool of light as the night progressed
Running down the middle of the road to the place he knew was highest
For tonight he wanted to reach up and touch the stars
He ran and ran until he reached one place
He climbed it quickly and reached as high as he could,
But he could not touch the sky
He ran farther away, to another high place
He climbed and stood and reached,
But he could not touch the sky
The sky got darker and darker,
And the boy ran faster and faster, as he was running out of time.
He stopped under the half-light of a broken bulb and turned, and flew
He ignored the burning in his legs and lungs and heart
And ran faster than he ever ran before,
For tonight he wanted to reach up and touch the stars
He sped up the side, catapulted off the top, and rolled to the ground
He ran around and climbed the jagged hill,
The misplaced hill
The special place hill.
He stood, once again, at the crest,
And reached and stretched and jumped, until he could reach the never-ending sky.
He pulled down the moon, and picked-apart the stars,
Examined the galaxies,
And ran his fingertips along the soft velvet sky.
After he was finished peeling apart the heavens, he put it all back together, the way he had found it,
Except a few changes, he liked to call them, constellations
He laid back on the special place, and breathed in the night’s restful sighs,
And he to sighed softly,
For tonight he had reached up and touched the stars.