On the boardwalk,
just past decoy buttercup.
Buoybells and stars.
Jupiter, bright
wielded in night
no moon
the island velvet pinpricked skies.
Mars barely aloft,
whimpering soft
lies behind
the shoreline home's third floor golden glow.
The rest of the wanderers
had sunk far below horizon.
Only the wind-whipped bay
whispered of alignments to come.
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