At Last
Supposed to be impressed by countless stars
And planets, moons, by comet, asteroid—
These globs of gas and rock in numbers far
Exceeding grasp—I feel instead the void,
The void, the void they streak and swerve through.
The one important color is that black,
That black, black, black of nothingness. The blue
Of earth, the green of Venus and the track
Of lunar probe on gray; the yellow, red
And orange constellations, and the pink
And fuschia gas of galaxies are fed
Into the blank of entropy, will sink.
The truth spreads endlessly. It must appal.
Black is the fate of everything—of all.