This Is But a Little Patch

When the sky is serene,
And the moon is absent,
You can see the small blur

Clustered by the thousands,
Barely noticeable
Smudges, faint dots of light,

Meaningless to your life.
There’s no dark core to them,
They’re just a crowded field,

Dense enough that travel
Between many of them
Would be more feasible,

A lot more feasible,
Than to any star from
This sun. They seem so small,

So companionable,
So irrelevant, so
Like something you would do.