Pluto

In such an immense galaxy, it's hard for anything or anyone to feel significant.
To feel real, present, important.
There are moments:
Instances when we can feel stupendous,
infinite even.
A brief, suspended moment when the spotlight is on us.
In this universe, such times are fleeting
The bigger stars around you take precedent,
again.
They burn more brightly,
undermining the dull dazzle we have to offer.
The world is entranced by objects more interesting than you,
who ends up demoted and forgotten.
Lost in an endless space
Competing with those stunning entities
Fighting to be remembered
Hoping to have another moment in the sun before we revolve too far
And are left in shadow again.

Author's Note

A metaphor.

Reviews

[Rick Puetter]

Greatly enjoyed. I understand the feeling. Pluto, a small cold dwarf planet, distant and out of the sun's bright rays. But even pluto has four moons, with Charon being the largest and almost as large as Pluto, itself. Selection of an outer, minor planet is particularly poignant as we now know there are so many objects (some bigger than Pluto) out in the Oort cloud and the scattered disk. And, wonderfully consistent with your poem, these objects occasionally "step into the sun", becoming comets that shine brightly for a while and then disappear back into the darkness.

Nice poem.

Best regards,

Rick

[Aidylvice]

I really like how you are comparing a person to Pluto, especially since Pluto was just recently denounced as a planet. Good job. :)