Three Black Holes at Dawn

They found them in a newborn sky,
where early stars first learned to fly,
three giants feeding in the night,
their hunger shaping newborn light.

Two circled close, a whispered pair,
their spirals brushing in the air;
gravity weaving flame and dust,
a dance of danger, dark, and trust.

The third moved farther, slow and wide,
a lonely wanderer on the side,
waiting for the fated day
their hearts would merge and slip away.

Across twelve billion years they send
a pulse that will not break or bend,
a message from that ancient dawn:
even in darkness, life moves on.

It teaches us what shadows know:
that even black holes learn to grow,
to gather, join, and carry through,
a cosmic truth for me and you.

A late poetic awakening came to me at ninety-one, after a lifetime in the sky. Years as a Marine aviator and Pan Am captain shaped my view of the world, and now, grounded in quiet hours with my four cats, I write. More than three hundred poems have risen from solitude and memory, each one a small flight, a rediscovery, a way of keeping the golden age of transportation alive in words.

Roy Everett Butler Books
A quiet place for poetry, memory, and renewal.