Meteor Strike

From out the dark door of the secret skies I saw
a travelling light not sun nor moon nor star,
saw it alight and heard its breath blast white
the near horizon and asked why
this morning’s dawn should be so
different to everything we know
expect or recollect — why the window
shatters the day and breaks
the promise of normality and I recoil
knowing that this can be, could be, may be any
given day under heaven and that there is
no why and no shall-be
only a cold coincidental certainty;
the unpredictability of space.