When the star ultimately exploded
science had few means of realizing it
but even in the lowest sensibility
the nova, being new, was brilliant
yet also fearful. Imagine waking up
literally yellow as a lemon, your birth
a blast of light. Oddly, around it,
the void became a terra cotta mirror
perhaps because space, too, stares shocked
only to bow for its one eternal instant
solidly into its opposite. After the bang
a letdown: Suddenly adorned with awareness
that dirt is the mother and father of life
a corona of envious green enclothed
for bare seconds, the split nature of space.
But that demanded a cogent atmosphere
upon which this green also merely reflects.
Soon, a bricklayer's artifice mimicked you
though a sense of fearfulness civilized it.
Which is why, we suppose, that entering here
you were compelled to wear your neon blue.