The star of riches in shining on you
says the fortune cookie fortune, 

and I ponder the indefiniteness
cast on everything after the first 

preposition but stick it on the edge
of my computer anyway. In shining 

on me what? In shining on me, 
decides to pour forth a double 

dose of its gifts or decides plain 
shining is quite enough, thank you, 

you're welcome? In which of the many 
paper bag lanterns filled with sand 

and little votives lining the pathways 
around the square will I find that 

particular star with my name on it? 
The painter wrote un rocío de prismas 

sus encantos de mañanas plácidas 
por cien
 meaning he has faith 

in the tenancy of light beyond
a hundred mornings. And so perhaps

I should as well, for what difference
is there really between what flickers

so brightly but so far away and all
that we've gathered here, closer at hand? 

~ with a line from Armando Valero's "Soy" 

In response to Via Negativa: Preoccupied.

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