These stars will never shine so bright
as they do now. Our future lies
darker & lonelier every night.
Whatever fraction of delight
still flickers dimly in our eyes,
these stars will never shine so bright,
their galaxies in panicked flight
all vacating this scrap of sky
grown darker. Lonelier, every night.
I wish I may, I wish I might . . .
but what's as tedious as why
these stars will never shine so bright
as they once did. Blame physics' blight,
that energy its math implies.
Darker—read lonelier—every night,
our dreams hold less of hope than fright,
too drained of wonder to deny
these stars will never shine so bright.
Darker & lonelier, all our nights.