You Can't Believe Your Eyes
The sun has set cool breezes blow.
The stars appearing in the sky
May well have burnt out long ago.
We see them still as points of light
As focal points for watching eyes.
Searching for beauty in the night.
The stars we are convinced we see
May have been dead for centuries.
So what we see are memories.
Mere ghosts of stars that used to be.
In their full glory shining bright.
In some far distant galaxy.
There is no way we can be sure.
Which stars are dead and which endure.
If you have any suggestions or questions regarding these poems please email me