I wouldn't sail this ship if I were you
When nuclear reactions begin in the heart of a collapsing protostar; when you just feel a little off for the first time; when when you watch the grainy footage of the first footfall on humanity’s new home; when a tree grows again in your environmental dystopia; when you open the paper at the start of the exam; when that fish ploips up out of the sea for an experimental walk on land; when the prison door closes; when the first geese take off for the South; the starting tick of the new clock; the first newly wrought sentence of the novel, still warm and lacking even a full stop.