There's something in the cloud bands tonight,
A reminder that this blue marble is simply one planet among countless others--
--with all that entails,
A breath of a time when we remembered it
And dared to dream of taking our place as the humble youngest member
Of a vast, unimaginable cosmic family.
But do not think too hard about what could have been, we caution ourselves,
For sometimes the sweetest yearning for flight
Only makes reality's gravity all the bitterer
Even as it lends us the strength to carry on.
Yet still the scent of ozone and antique telescope grease hangs in the air,
Close enough to touch, but insubstantial
As the frayed cotton-wool cloud unspooling itself across the light-polluted sky
Of a planet that traded Roddenberry for Abrams long ago.
Ashes to ashes, space dust to space dust--
--where is the starman now?