They left holes in the sky, promising to replace the stars later, and later they had to make sure nobody was around who remembered the stars as they were because new ones had to be made in haste, which looked nothing at all like the originals, just tinfoil stars pinned to a black curtain, just sparks stirred from a dying fire. What if the world went away for a second and your friends weren’t afraid?
Thanks, darling!
What if? Another beautiful poem, Alan.