Fade
We try to make our mark and leave a scar
Or stain the color of a would-be ghost.
We leave a remnant like a moon or a star
In galaxies spluttered, their only boast
Smooth blackness stretched. We are the light of moons
Forgotten, or of stars collapsed in droves
When clusters eat each other or are noons
That no one ever saw. We are Joves
Which lack an altar now except an odd
One broken down among dead olive trees
That never bore green fruit. We are a god
That never happened. We are suns that freeze
And never really gave blue heat in strength
Or comets of an ever dwindling length.