Our sun in our eyes comes close,
But we love it and need it
And know not to look at it.
The ones at night break our hearts,
One by one and heart by heart,
Although the whole panoply
Visible desert camping
On a bedroll, by the car,
Proves alien heartlessness
In a language neither math
Nor profound faith comprehends.
That one there's the loveliest
Cries the brain, the lonesomnist.
