I have many recommendations. Though
at the top would be to lie on your back,
preferably on a stiff, wooden surface.
Maybe the planks of a tall deck in the Jeffrey
Pines that trace Lake Tahoe. Lie at the darkest
hour beside someone you normally do not
watch the stars with, like your Dad.
He may wish to discuss the galactic
feast above. How it moves, and when.
Blackness will yawn through you when
he mentions the Andromeda Galaxy is
on course to collide with us. Fear first of
the collision, and then of the fact that
you will never witness that collision.
Through the trees perhaps you hear the
soft clinking of two glasses, the muted laughs
of a moment that for them, may be as
enduring as yours here with the bats
and fresh firs. The blazing shooting star
slicing the whole dazzling tapestry as if to
say, Yes, this blip is bright, and important.
