New Poem

Blinking.


Two stars were talking to each other.

The bright one said, “You’re blinking.

You keep blinking.”

“I was winking, not blinking,” said the

dull one.

“No, you’re blinking. There. Then.

That was a blink. That was definitely

a blink,” said the bright one.

“OK, it was a blink.” said the

dull one, “OK, OK, OK.”

“No need to get huffy. I’m not

being horrible,” said the

bright one, “I was just saying.”

“Fine, fine, just leave it,” said

the dull one.

“I am leaving it. I wasn’t saying

that there’s anything wrong with

blinking. Or winking. If you

want to blink, just blink,” said

the bright one.

“I know, I know, I know,” said

the dull one.

“It’s just blinking, it’s no big

deal,” said the bright one.

“I know,” said the dull one, “you’re

blinking too.”

“I’m not,” said the bright one.

“What do you mean, you’re not?”

said the dull one, “it’s what we do.

We sit up in the sky and we blink.”

“Well maybe you do, but I don’t,”

said the bright one.

“It’s OK to blink,” said the dull one.

“I know it’s OK to blink, I told

you it was OK to blink,” said

the bright one, “so leave it.”

“I AM leaving it. I wasn’t saying

that there’s anything wrong with

blinking. Or winking. If you

want to blink, just blink,” said the

dull one.

“I know, I know, I know, I was the

one who was saying that there

wasn’t anything wrong with blinking

in the first place,” said the

bright one.

“It’s just blinking, it’s no big deal,”

said the dull one.

“I know,” said the bright one.