Nostalgia

In my childhood, the sky overflowed with stars. I’d gaze up, envisioning constellations like the big dipper sharing from the milky way. Now, the stars have vanished, replaced by clouds which blot out the moonlight. Instead, parasites scour the wasteland-sky carrying kilos of Amazon packages and Funko Pops. During especially dark nights of the soul, I will hallucinate two planes as the eyes of a great dragon, patiently waiting.