They say when you see starlight,
That those stars are already dead,
And have been dead for a long time.
2:30 am, the Sacramento Valley,
The night air is smokey, murky.
A forest fire rages 100 miles to the north
And the smoke has blanketed the valley.
Looking up, I can see the memory
Of a couple of determined stars
Peep out at me. The universe goes on.
Stars can die out and forests can burn
But we do go one. Being alive
Is like turning the pages in a book.
Just keep on reading, friend.
The end will come soon enough.