when night finally comes
and the moon is new
starlight and satellites hang
like chandeliers above us
and already what we see
is history

the sky dances a reel
we know so well
and your eyes
your eyes as bright as any star
as you trace
the old drove roads

where shooting stars
follow the paths
our ancestors
walked across the heavens
crossing stone and stardust
them and us

we lie on our backs
in the heather
you take my hand
beside the old shieling
in the briefest night
and the world is fine