A star burns brightest right before it implodes.
It gradually, voraciously, consumes itself;
Leaving a trail of light for a few billion years.
As if stopped by the iron hell-hound,
It rumbles inward; it can’t eat the dog.
So it eats itself – and shatters and scatters.
That Big Bang makes life,
For another few billion years;
It becomes the unseen.
The taker now, and many;
Circling around its kin in pieces.
Atop such a grain of sand,
With grass and water,
And parrots and robots,
Glued by gravity,
Only to look into the abyss of space,
To see another star,
That imploded only God knows when,
For a rare cosmic glimpse,
Before we become stars again.