Cowboy Bebop

Space Cowboy

In the dead of space,

I languish,

the emptiness of it all,

those silent stars,

staring back at me,

glaringly,

luminescent,

dying,

ghosts of stellar life,

blinking out,

blinking in,

as my beat up ship traverses,

huffing on fumes,

to the next fuel depot,

maybe I’ll meet a vixen there,

maybe not,

I can’t be sure of anything,

in this cosmic terrain,

gravity,

magnetism,

or my body’s strain,

I’ve made mistakes,

and I only cared who forgave,

not that I did,

which is universally important,

to make the alone,

work for me,

quiet fields tame a vivid mind,

such as mine,

shooting stars,

meteor showers,

sun spots,

all catch an open eye,

encapsulate fascination,  

make me feel small,

insignificant,

tiny,

everchanging,

as this lonely cowboy saunters off,

into yet another sunset,

at sub-light speed,

in future tones,

and purpose…

strewn across the cosmos.