Poem 127

Asking universal questions of scale chance and (in)significance …

… the match can’t see the wood for the trees it’s about to set fire to …

( I like the lip of the visible spectrum … )

Looking Out From The Goldilocks Zone

Whole countries get swallowed by the night
      exhaust their industries dragging themselves
      back to the lip of the visible spectrum
               in time for morning
these stars
             where are they going?
why are they one million times
out of a million and one
                           too far away
or much too close?  

                      I'm only a match
           in a big dark forest
                                 how can I survive?