Much Dimmed by Ground Air

The brightest star in the sky
Depends on the location,
The sensory equipment

Of the observing machine
Or beast, the fascination
Or boredom of that same beast,

The era, in centuries,
The weather, night after night,
The season, whether it’s day,

The whole of the viewer’s life.
There’s something out there, there is,
But what’s it to you it is?

You’re nothing much but nothing
Is as it is, other than
To you, brightest star witness.