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Our great-great-great ad infinitum whoevers
will glimpse it one night, sitting
beneath the trees made from
the dust that once was us:
stars are nothing more
than fiery time machines.
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WOW! Great job in such a short piece. You managed to go forward in time at such a pace, such a speed, it was like a ride in a speeding convertible. The last stanza is perfect. *clapping* Take a bow, Logan. T.
