How do you interpret this piece? Share in the comments and see my view at the end of the post.
When the sky stopped moving The stars drizzled down I captured them like a child In cupped palms, while Some entangled in my hair I tied a few with a bonny bow In a hanky with crochet-edges Then, I lay amongst the brilliance Waiting for the sun to descend
I see this as an imagist poem with a life metaphor. When time is ready to halt, we can only stand by and gather memories and memoirs. We, then, patiently wait for the last sunset.
Blue Pen Strokes 
The imagery is stunning, but I didn’t know how to interpret that. It did, however, reminded me of my character in my historical novel that she liked to catch shooting stars in the palm of her hands.
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