She looked into the night sky and pondered her place.
Perhaps she was just a gathering of dust on a rocky mote flying through emptiness.
It made her feel small and insignificant,
Refuse of exploded suns long since forgotten in the cosmic background.
If that was it, well, that was still pretty cool.
The fact that her ancestors were ancient suns lightened her soul, and her smile lit up the night.
Boy could those men tell you stories amid the smell of talc and aftershave
About times in the past that people have forgotten
Remembering with such clarity the neighborhood throughout time
Because they had been there for a combined hundred-sixty years
Everyone came there to sit in those ancient green chairs and listen raptly
Relishing their experience with those historians. The haircuts weren’t too bad either.