While satellites come close and leave, whole moons and the swirling dust of reflective obeyers, it arrives from distance.
Running a course through weight from a pencil-thin horizon brow, it might have streaked across darkness. With the dead shines behind, washed clean in a trail of wild flame and then fallen, bolide broken into cascade.
Or rising to collide, only skim the surface. Ruffle the sheets of land, wrinkle fertile leas and parched sands.
No, to strike full and shudder the core and extinguish light and life. With unswerving smite.
From underestimated range and unmeasured haste, a peacock tail drags far behind. Each one diamond dolefully eyed.
Is this eccentric orbit the only the path seen? Fastened to your celestial belt and looped in an endless trajectory.