Poetry in the summer night sky

I am used to looking up at the stars.

But fantasize about flying to the moon.

Looking down at the brilliance of the stars holding the moon.

I'm used to stop and go.

But fantasizing about silence.

End the warmth of a place.

It's like sorting out those

The ground is full of broken stars.

I am used to staying up late and getting up late.

Because I long for the beauty of the night sky.

In the dead of night

I can hear breathing in the night sky.

Heavy and ethereal

I'm used to the starry night.

A person listens to the waltz of the stars

Dance in a flurry

It's like stepping on the stars flying all over the sky

Stars always glow by themselves in the dark.

And that night sky is like a deep and naive maze.

It's just that the stars don't want to escape

Because stars are used to it.

Get used to getting lost in the noisy night.

A starry night sky

Pass by the flower shop on the roadside

At two or three in the morning

A skirt swaying with summer flowers

Light the tears of lavender

Drift away from the window of the next stop

I see. /I see.

Stars are flowers in the sky.

It is a treasure of childhood.

Sweet tears.

And fireflies lost in the night sky