There is a sound
The sound of a car engine
Conveying strangers away of into the distance.
I know this because the sound faces East
As it fades.
It is a strange episode.
Every night we loose our sky.
The sky is lost, invisible.
There, laid out before us
Is the magnificent history of the Cosmos.
What useless news it brings,
History with no worth,
Important happenings of concern
Are now and here on this trodden Earth.
(C) 2018 Christopher Thompson