I remember considering how strange it was,
To think, that the stars we gaze so raptly at,
Might no longer burn, somewhere far off in the universe.
To think that their light still trickles down to us every night,
While they no longer exist.
I suppose that is what you are; starlight.
Something countless people see in my eyes.
But were I to return to,
The source of that distant flicker,
I might find you inexistent.
Something I might wish upon, childishly, in the back of my mind;
A wish without chance of realization.
Perhaps one day I will find the right telescope
To seek out the stars, so far away and buried in the night,
To determine whether that silent glimmer denotes their presence
Or whether their light survives them;
Merely the memory of a lost star.