Pause for poetry:
Michael Hawkes /1
Stargazing
A poem by Michael Hawkes
We can’t be sure that stars are there,
they could possibly have died,
gone over the edge of the universe
in a moonlit suicide.
In years to come when the sky is black
we may find that we misjudged,
then rue the truth when looking back
at the ‘facts’ that science fudged.
The fact remains, we’ll never know
if stars are there or not,
because at the rate these objects go
it’s hard for them to stop,
and they’re surely going somewhere,
of that there’s not a doubt,
so starstruck earthlings should prepare
for when the lights go out.
Our life inside this stellar sphere
might also be a bust…
if all the stars should disappear,
what happens to stardust?
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Michael Hawkes is an 80-year-old survivor of all the world’s wars. He learned (and loved to rhyme) by torturing the hymns he had to sing at school. A retired West Coast fisherman living in Montreal since 2013, he is an unschooled Grandpa Moses writing an average of five poems every week.
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