Poetry from Kentucky: Dear Blue Hill’s Stars The Society October 23, 2012 Poetry By Billy Cosby Tonight, whoever watered your fresh sky set the nozzle wide and the evening’s cheeks wear a dark blush with glimmering shoe-flies needling clouds away I hope for weeks because yours are wild stars tonight, mustangs, thousands in Olympic golds and bronzes arm-wrestling for space, enduring pains as bright, tight karats: spacial nuances. Tomorrow, will clouds rake your shards away? Gosh, I hope they stagger on my eyes’ roots because “starlight, starbright” begins a fray tempered by your percussion, sightly flutes. With warmth, Billy, presently of Blue Hill p.s. – listen close: you ssshhh the night still Billy Cosby: I’m a Kentucky transplant (going on six years) from Virginia and I’m in my tenth year of teaching in middle school. The part of my personality that makes me (at least) an average Language Arts teacher in middle school does find its way into my personal writing. I sometimes lack couth and occasionally insert a Kentucky drawl into my poetry, but still my thoughts are as sincere as my love for dogs – generally, the focus of my writing. I’ve had one other poem published, not shockingly, “If a Labrador Pees in the Forest,” in the magazine, BARk (Sept. – Oct. 2012). This poem is among the entries for the Society’s 2012 Poetry Competition. Related Post ‘Unforeseen Good Fortune’s Heirs Are We’ and Oth... Unforeseen Good Fortune’s Heirs Are We There’s little of the Plague that we can find to celebrate except for this small gem – when those who died... Tell the world:FacebookTwitterTumblrPinterestRedditLinkedInEmail Leave a Reply Cancel Reply Your email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email.