Fifty Stars or a Tiny Little Less

Between inside and outside about fifty, well, the
Glittering max above this city of light they say, so
That’s all the difference, star-wise.
But on ordinary nights you don’t even see a single one.
No difference whatsoever, though. But still.

Fifty would be a big thing, two or three is not bad
Just enough to tell inside from outside, because inside
There wouldn’t be one. Inside you may put out the light, seek
Some window and try; nonetheless, twinkly goose egg.
Whereas outside betimes a pinpoint two or three.

Two or three miracles is not a lot, there
Ought to sparkle regular myriads, if possible one miracle
For everyone, or at least a satisfactory percentage to share out
Making the odds a tiny little less ludicrous
And yet, two or three per a couple of millions is not so bad.

The figures fifty and two are quite close to each other
When there’s gazillions athirst. However, if one of them
Chary pinheads shoots at you, luck adds to it the clue
You’re outside like as not neath a stark-naked sky
Merely somewhat subdued by this city of light.

August 25, 2011