Needles Through the Tapestry of Dust

They flick across the sky mostly silently,
Forever metaphors for speed and surprise—
Meteoric. That’s the only word you need

For a sky-wide range of associations.
Anything fast and brilliant out of nowhere,
Gone before you know it—anything like that.

Collected and scrutinized by the thousands,
They are the most fragmentary of messages
By which to infer what’s actually out there,

And still the best reminders Earth’s not alone
But embedded in the tapestry of dust.