What alien craft disturbed
remote Australian marshes
rotor spewing mud, flattening scrub
in a wide arc?
A meteor, we later learn
has daggled a passage
to embed in rock below.
Stapled above my sleeping head,
between me and fleets of fiery suns,
a thin sheet iron cover clings.
Dark matter dreaming
beneath slipstream of galaxies.
Why are sides of houses more robust?
Ours, with stone and clay
is bulwark to little more
than neighbour’s gaze,
and occasional brisk sou’ wester
pressing the mortar.
They say that even daylight’s
comforting cerulean blue
recedes to endless black
a darkening observed by high flying pilots.
And beyond, the ancient flares
blind us to any sense of scale
and scatter sparks that sometimes
plummet to the earth as rock.