Proxima b Orbiting Proxima Centauri
One star over, on a planet that might be another earth.
Live three strange species, homes around its girth.
The days never end, the nights might surprise you.
You can dance all the time at two thousand and two.
Three species live there. One, pale big eyed waifs.
One olive skinned; with cat eyes to keep them safe.
The third very dark; use sun glasses to see.
When I visit all three I hope they will play with me.
I'm sitting on the porch on Sunday morning.
A truck with tinted windows rolls by.
Is anyone in it?
I can hear the sounds of distant traffic-
and a jet flying over.
The sky is gray.
A dog barks.
Wind silently vibrates the leaves.
I am cold and alone, but it is beautiful.
Things I make from silverware.