You can’t see the stars in Birmingham – Aimee Green poem

You can’t see the stars in Birmingham.

Instead, above is just a muddle

of clouds, lightness, and dark; reflections

and beams. A mask: those twinkles too shy

to watch down on us tonight.

A city of orange awakeness,

the suburbs still

too loud, too alive, too alert

to coax those stars from behind

their disguise. This sky

means so little in Birmingham.

Instead the land below shines as bright

as the proud stars do back home.

You can’t see the stars in Birmingham.

The bears, the belt, the twins. Who else

do these tired eyes

no longer meet?

But I’d be lost here

without that orange muddle of nothing.

I look above the skyline and it reminds me

of what moving here

made me leave behind.

Aimee S. Green holds an MA in Creative Writing from the University of Birmingham and still lives in the city. She spends more time changing nappies now than anything else, but finds comfort in recording and exploring the strange world outside through her poetry. She shares her poetry and prose at

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