What Does it Mean? 

I've been writing poetry in the dark
no candles, no spark of incandescent 
just tracing the lines of words from 
rote memory 

pain is raw and visceral; I told a friend
an open wound all to real to go unnoticed 
some are repulsed by the guts bleeding out of my chest
some have compassion 

I was driving into work in the still morning dark
I saw before me the brightest, largest 
shooting star I have ever seen
fall right in front of me 
this is a light pollluted suburb, no backwoods UP; I'm no egoist to think it's just for me, but why and what does it mean? 

Made a wish in haste then crossed myself 
I ask a friend like you would ask a poet about a poem
a poet who wrote in the dark on a cool summer morning, in the parking lot, in a work truck.
What does it mean?