An astronomer discovered a single tear
squeezed from the closed eye
of far space yesterday.
Four billion
of those fast light years away,
the crying happened a long time ago.
Apparently, if you exploded
an atom bomb against your eyeball
it would make only the faintest
lantern-like glimmer in comparison
to the glow coming from this old tear.
This bright ancient tear might,
even now, still be out there
still shattering its sorrow
on the cold cheek of space-time.
What must have been lost,
what loneliness must have come to pass
to make this happen then?
—And so far away from consolation.
I like the way you explode an idea in a poem.
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