22 + three



A sculpted masterpiece
For everyone to see
star catcher
star catcher
A solid playground for
Kids to climb upon
star catcher
star catcher
An open hand to the sky
Catching shooting stars


Star Catcher

The tree that caught
Your birthday balloons
Has been cut down
But like the sea-washed
Logs on the beach
It’s still as strong
As it was before
It was cut down

Upright tall and proud
It stands
On its solid trunk
Roots spread out solidly
Through the underground
It’s still as strong
As it was before
It was cut down

Leaves no longer flutter and dance
With the wind
Branches are gone
But five massive boughs
Reach out
To the sky above
As they did before
It was cut down


Star Catcher was written during one of the many times where I found refuge at the beach where this collection of poems started.

In between homeless shelters and temporary rental accommodations, I often returned to the beach where I would try to get some rest in the daytime when I couldn’t find a place to sleep at night, and through the nights when evenings where dry and warm.

The morning I wrote Star Catcher was after a night at the beach where the sky was so dark and so clear that even though the full moon shone so brightly, a million stars could be seen.

I had noticed the tree that had been cut down a year or two prior to this specific day, but on this morning I sat close to it and recalled the birthday when your balloons had blown off and were caught almost a hundred feet up by the tree’s branches.

Your father, after seeing you at the base of the tree looking up to your birthday balloons, without a moment’s hesitation, set out to climb the tree until he reached the branch where they were caught. The oohs and aahs coming from everyone shifted to hurrays and applause when he reached the ground with balloons in hand, but he paid no attention to all of the hoopla and simply handed the balloons to his sweetest birthday girl.

I’m glad to be able to remember that moment so vividly, and although I wish I had taken a photo of that moment, instead I wrote this poem.

Of course, this poem, like all other’s I’ve written, sways off course and touches on various topics and subjects I created out of my imagination, but when reading it again recently, it took on a whole new meaning for me.

When I originally wrote this poem, the inspiration came from the beautiful memory I had from the past and the immediate surroundings within sight. Having spent the night under a star-filled sky inspired Star Catcher’s theme, and witnessing the solid remaining stump and how its main branches, albeit cut-down, still spread out towards the sky, played into it as well.

But more recently, your father offered me to stay at his place while he was away for a few months – which I’m sure was likely prompted by you – but nevertheless, if I were to write a poem about that, perhaps I’d assign myself to be a shooting star caught by the Star Catcher for a much needed safe and warm reprieve through the coldest winter months and after years of homelessness.

Star Catcher

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