Astral

Growing up, I knew a boy who shone silvery-white

From the top of his head to his feet.

He wasn’t blinding, but he gave off a glow

Leaving wisps of light

Trailing behind him like smoke.

They wouldn’t let him into the movie theaters,

And he was no good at manhunt or hide-and-seek at night—

People would spot him instantly and give chase

Reaching with outstretched hands as he darted away

A streak of brightness in the dark.

But we always liked having him around.

He’d been there for as long as anyone could remember,

Just quietly drifting through town, surrounded

By a constant cloud of radiance

That dimmed some during the day

But was unmissable in the night.

No one knew when he first showed up.

Some people said he had come from the sky.

I asked him once, as he walked me home one night

Lighting up the path so I wouldn’t trip or fall

How old he was, how long he’d been alive

And he looked up the sky full of glimmering stars

That we’d learned that day in science weren’t all really there

Some just ancient light from ancient suns

That burned out long ago

And he said, in a funny sort of voice, that it didn’t matter

He was pretty sure that he’d been dead for quite a while now.

But his light kept shining anyway, so nobody could tell

And I used to wonder if it bothered him        

How people would make wishes on him as he went by

Or how they’d use him to help them find their missing keys

When all the time the last of him was being used up—

He never said one way or the other.

He just stayed with us, existing, encased in luminescence

And whenever someone got lost or turned around in the dark

He would always be there to guide them home.