Monday, October 15, 2012

Muttering Overhead

We refer to the stars
So god dammed easily

As in, you know, those dots
Of lights that rule our fates,

Those metaphors for fame,
Science fiction settings,

Dim bulbs we never see,
And we forget how strange

It is to be small things
Looking up at nearly

Infinity each night
As if it were a bed

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.