Black is too much light
On a starry night.
He’s the one who lurks
Just on top of the street lamp’s light,
Above gazes that look up at cloudless skies and crescent moons.
Once, black was the comforting underside of a child’s blanket,
The closed-eyed darkness before dreams,
The glorious shadow of the day’s new moon.
Now, he spreads out of his bounds
Pulled out by the sprawl of the eternal lamp light.
And in the place of starlight,
Only darkness rules the night.
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 12:42 PM UTC
Black is too much light
On a starry night.
He’s the one who lurks
Just on top of the street lamp’s light,
Above gazes that look up at cloudless skies and crescent moons.
Once, black was the comforting underside of a child’s blanket,
The closed-eyed darkness before dreams,
The glorious shadow of the day’s new moon.
Now, he spreads out of his bounds
Pulled out by the sprawl of the eternal lamp light.
And in the place of starlight,
Only darkness rules the night.
And here's a tribute to the effects of light pollution
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