The Last Star Party


The night was cold and calm,

The sky was mostly clear.

A ghost of twilight lingered,

As points of light appeared.


A hundred hunters strolled about

Their cannons black and white,

Seeking out their fuzzy prey

Throughout the starry night.


Then squeaks and beeps began to sound

As the hunters got to work;

Cameras buzzed, and people laughed,

And lasers pierced the murk.


The scopes were trained on blobs of light,

Nebulous and blue.

Some blobs were flat and others round

With stars all scattered through.


A crescent moon was seen by some,

And Jupiter was, too.

Saturn was a slendid sight

As the Horsehead sprang to view.


Clouds which were lurking toward the west

Then spread to fill the void.

They hid all but the brightest stars

And the hunters grew annoyed.


Here and there a patch of sky would grow

And then would disappear.

Telescopes were abandoned;

The hunt was ended here.


Lawn chairs now took the place of ladders,

And towels hit the dirt.

Hunters who had prowled the night

Soon became inert.


Ocasionally a meteor had streaked across the sky,

Mostly dim and blue.

But more were now expected,

As Leo's visage grew.


Suddenly there was a flash of light.

The crowd let out a yell.

A blue-green trail hung brightly in the sky,

The burning gas dispelled.


The people there began to count

As dimmer streaks appeared.

More dust grains met a fiery death;

The party got in gear.


Forty were counted the first hour,

At least a hundred after that.

A clearing sky left more to see,

And fewer people sat.


They came as singles

And as groups,

In east and south and west.

To the north and overhead

It was just like all the rest.


Only seconds came between each sighting,

Most were bright and long.

Fireballs became the rule,

The shouts became a song.


"One to the north!" "There's three!"

"There are two below the belt!"

"Wow, to the west, look at that!"

"That's one I almost felt!"


Necks grew sore, heads jerked around,

Then the wind began to blow.

The hunters went for cover,

Abandoning the show.


A red sky came before the sun,

And still the bolides fell.

People woke to bitter cold

Outside their camper's shell.


They packed it in, one and all,

Finally departing for their homes.

And the hunters knew their memories

Would long see fiery stones.


This party was unlike any other,

And probably the best.

This final trip to hunt the stars

Marks a fitting time to rest. Products Samples Main Page

© Copyright 2001, 2016 Bradley W. Jarvis. All rights reserved.