Space between stars
like black windows
or, blue
before it gets late.
Look through
to what can’t be seen.
You are looking
into the past, they say.
The light from stars
is like some infinite clock,
measuring time
with distances traveled.
Begin again.
The next night,
are you looking farther
into the past,
like the front pages
of an album taken backward
off the shelf?
While we were busy
in the day,
did the past continue to shine
along its path, so that we are now
looking at exactly the same
time-distance as before?
Or, is this star-time
like the moon in some way?
Our mutual turnings
altering its appearance
each night waxing and waning
through phases until
it comes full circle,
begins again,
like the moon with its borrowed light,
and face that only seems to change.
The ancient light of stars
brushes past its shoulder
each night,
begin again.