What Will Happen When the Sun Dies
Pick a forever thing,
and watch it go gooey
or corroded in your hand,
blob of diamond,
desiccated car,
forked-up yolk sun.
Is that inky cloud
a black hole
or a bok globule.
Tell your neighbor,
and pass it on,
keep watching for a new sun,
babies who’ll be here
in a thousand years,
in ten thousand years.
Five million years
equals forever
only to us.
'Forked-up yolk sun'. A single phrase that beats the best sci-fi imagery!
ReplyDeleteHave a cool Yule, Hannah.
Five million years does only equal to forever for us : ) You are brilliant. : )
ReplyDeleteSome of the most inventive phrasing I've read in a long time. Other poets should be striving for that kind of craft.
ReplyDelete