The owl we heard last night hoots near the road
and a fox barks deep among the oak trees.
Though it is moonless and the sea a sliver
of a different dark, light pollution
from the small resort to the east
means we must find the westernmost wall
to lean against and view the stars tonight.
We see them trembling and marvel, wordless,
so many more than we ever remember.
We forget they are always above us.
‘What is the sky for?’