If this wheeling universe was formed
in one vast cataclysmic blast then you
and I have relatives out there. Some cloud
of stars perhaps, strange ancient races, storms
of vagrant meteors, wandering comets or,
perhaps, another Saturn ringed by ice
and caught in orbit round some fading sun.
As relatives we’re rather distant now.
Our families split that day when days began –
that morning of the worlds when they were poured
together from a cosmic cauldron. One
small fragment formed our boiling world and then,
eventually, the ooze we crept through when
we crawled towards the shore.
Sometimes, on garbage nights, I watch the lights
seep in from galaxies – see planets climb
and distant kin revolve – stand cans aside
and slowly let my mind go – wonder where
our closest cousins are. I’ll never know
of course they`re far too far away in time –
and distance too. They`re somewhere out there though
inside some spinning, spiral-web of suns.
I like to think our families might meet
before our universe stands still – compare
their histories since the scattering then share
an orbit for a turn or two before
the suns set and the universe implodes,
lies silent for a while and then