I toss a pebble into the sky and
watch the ripples shake the stars
like no man or spaceship ever could,
disrupting the light that has for centuries
gone undisturbed, some long since dead,
some long since alive,
we just haven't gotten the message;
but we will.
Soon the pebble rests in the silt
of long-dead algae, a fresh corpse
in an old cemetery, and the waters
once again rest as smooth as the sky.
The moon looks so close, so
tempting in these new heavens,
I reach out and grab for it,
accomplishing nothing; after all,
the reflection of the moon in the water
is just a reflection.
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