Untitled: Stars

Inspired by John Milton

Why waste the firmament? Why trash the stars?
Consider how their light is spent
If burnt away when all Earth's eyes are closed.
All your numbered stars that seem to roll the spaces
Incomprehensible round this punctual dot,
     This grain, atom, speck of grit
     In a bundle of light flecks.
Consider how our light is spent
In Ptolemaic disproportions.
     Crystalline layers dissipating finer and finer:
     Air is less that spirit. Light is more than glass.
     Coddled in light, your world rolls round again.
Consider how my light is spent on you.

The End

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