Never Once, Upon a Star

I looked up towards the cool night sky,
Breathing in the end of Fall.
“Weather seems to be turning foul;
I’ll swear it’s gonna be snow.”

The man who speaks stands over me
His coat pulled up about him.
“I wish that we could see the stars”
I found myself mumbling.

He shot me a look, his eyebrow raised
And followed my gaze upwards.
“Aye,” he breathed, “That would be something.”
And his eyes seemed far away.

“What would you wish, if one was shooting
Across the open sky?”
“I wouldn’t know,” He said at last,
“I never have once tried.”