The universe is vast and bare—
a vacuum—mostly empty space
with matter scattered here and there
around a stranded human race.
Kept quarantined by time and place,
we languish in the light-year sea
and scan horizons for a trace
of life, or mind, or deity.
Stars slowly transit overhead,
distant cousins of the sun.
I roll onto my side in bed,
a bed too cold and wide for one.
by Richard Meyer, from Orbital Paths (2015, Science Thrillers Media)