if you're (pretending to be) Irish
On the tidal mud, just before sunset,
dozens of starfishes
were creeping. It was
as though the mud were a sky
and enormous, imperfect stars
moved across it as slowly
as the actual stars cross heaven.
All at once they stopped,
and, as if they had simply
increased their receptivity
to gravity, they sank down
into the mud, faded down
into it and lay still, and by the time
pink of sunset broke across them
they were as invisible
as the true stars at daybreak.
Happy St. Patty's Day ya'll! I will be celebrating the marriage of my friends Julie & Andrew today...I'll be the one in the back with the Elton John-worthy shamrock sunglasses and green leftover Mardi Gras Beads!