Planets

Multitudes glide in
and out of my world
here they need not bare
weight of stolen time.
Give work twice its due.

In their worlds they must
be on tractor beam
orbits. Just like me.
Planets around suns.
Thinking they are suns
to other planets.
Not gleaning they’re in
galaxies among
many. How does one
realize that? Locked in
orbit. Meteors
converging, gloating.
A catastrophic
end in tow. Freeing
only frantic eyes
to watch and heart to
h(ope they miss the mark).

Now what can be done
if your sun goes out?
Centripetal pledge
centrifugal wedge
you spin round about
the wonder of growth
warmth of its harvest
the empty bone cold
of its distant light.
If out goes your sun
it invites you in.
You move in closer.
You see much, much less.
There was a blinding
flash. You were too small
to take it in. Come
die with me it bid.