Dusk, doubt, the growing depth of an evening sky, dark setting in as it did that night, the forever vastness of outer space reflecting the emptiness here inside, shadowing, colouring, clouding the mind.

But somewhere out there there has to be life, the distance only a matter of time, a world like our own, its markings and shades as uniquely formed as a daughter’s eye, distinctly fleeked, undeniably hers, looking back this way through the miles and years to a lantern cupping a golden blaze, its candle alive with a fierce blonde flame for the thousandth time, for as long as it takes.

By Simon Armitage