My response:

I read and re-read this poem throughout the day – and each time I felt the anxious, painful heat of the August-time summer haze.

Once, a satellite crashed through earth’s orbit and was caught solely by love, and, even though stars may fall farther than something so man-made, love will catch them, too.

I hope the stars find the words to talk one day, and that they were not simply the projected dreams that one puts on the empty exurban twilight. Until then, I’ll keep my eyes pointed northward to the dusk of the crowded skyline, hoping to hear the city speak to me in the way that only it ever could.

Regardless of what the stars can’t do, though, there’s two things they always will:

They’ll shine,
and they’ll be loved.