Perhaps I've just been inordinately lucky, or in need of a dozen wishes fulfilled; but every time I lift my eyes skyward, another star falls.
There's the streaking speeders, or angry red fireballs, that seem to delight in taking me unawares.
But every so often, appear the cloudy white orbs that kiss the rooftops, then softly fade to ether. Just to keep you believing in the magic in the moonlight; and wishing on a star.
Many years ago. I live in the middle of a big city. From my bedroom window I can see the moon and sometimes one star. Most I have ever seen is 3 stars.
