From gutters, one can’t always see the stars
The fog, the rain, life’s tedium can shade
So should the stardust gravitate to Earth
It could collect wherever dreams may fade.
But like the needle, tightly stacked with hay
These grains of hope are difficult to find
Accumulate detritus, day to day
Our eye for stellar hope goes dim, then blind
But careful observation does reveal
That space dust is detectable in town
The sampled gutters no longer conceal
That which from asteroids to Earth came down.
Thus steadfast pessimists
must now beware
That specks of
heaven settle everywhere.
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