Flying At Night

Above us, stars. Beneath us, constellations.
Five billion miles away, a galaxy dies
like a snowflake falling on water. Below us,
some farmer, feeling the chill of that distant death,
snaps on his yard light, drawing his sheds and barn
back into the little system of his care.
All night, the cities, like shimmering novas,
tug with bright streets at lonely lights like his.

by Ted Kooser

Comments (22)

All occurring in an infinite system of care, or meaninglessly random?
an illuminating poem of what might be as we all swim in the sea of time?
Tiny cogs lost in the vast machinery of the universe, but inextricably united to it. Wonderful.
A beautifully envisioned meaningful poem reflecting the force unifying the whole universe. Thanks for sharing.
It shows that we are a part of a bigger arrangement. Anything happening in a distant space may have its impact of earth or so it is believed. Nicely portrayed. Thank you, Ted.
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