Empty Sky

Empty skies are terrible - and rare.
For either moon or sun usually
Will for a crowning jewel appear there
And if they don't, the inconsistency
Is made up by the stars, or by the clouds,
Or by the birds that swarm into my view;
In their constituent distracting crowds
Each makes in many or at least in few
What moon and sun can do alone: fill sky.
For when they are all absent, then the world
Seems emptier and lonelier, and I
Am through abyss of space endlessly hurled
Unfriended and alone - until I glance
Downward and see on earth itself romance.