In the right place at the right time, the force
that causes things to fall to the ground
is overpowering. This is the birth of a star.

The reaction between elements 
changes them. A star can burn so strong,
onlookers can see it and feel the heat. 

The more the elements interact, the faster they burn.
But all we know is old news – we can only
see the star as it was, no matter how hard we try.

In dying, some stars explode, flashing as bright as
a billion of their kind, and leave a reminder. Others
fade to cloud, so you’d never know they were there. 

I don’t know which kind we are.
This is the birth of a poem. 
I have been saying goodbye to you for twenty years.