Stargazing is a strange act
Or wishing upon those self same things
They aren't even corpses, they are shadows
Shadows of ghosts of long dead giants
But we ****** upon them
Our wishes, our hopes
This hillside is damp
With late summer dew
But I don't move
As I feel it soak my shirt
Maybe this is part of the experience
I do not know, I do not pin my hopes
On long dead, once burning gases
So I lay, and look, not really seeing
Unsure, uncertain of my role