Pause for poetry: Michael Hawkes /1


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?


Feature image: Pixabay
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Michael Hawkes -

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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