Sometimes, I feel as if I will never remember what a shooting star looks like
I try to think back, but all I remember is the excitement; the emotion
I think harder
I remember the smell of the wood burning in the middle of the fire ring
I remember the chill of the late night
And I remember the feeling of the ground beneath my back
As I lay there, looking up
Up to the heavens, I suppose
On that night when they opened up, and the stars rained down
I remember how exciting the stars became
Each one a new discovery
And yet, as the stars get farther away in memory
I find it more and more difficult to find a picture
A picture in my head, that's all
But I can't find it
So I'll search on.
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