When the sun too shall die; the planets will freeze, and the air on them; frozen gases, white flakes of air Will be the dust: which no wind will ever stir: this very dust in dim starlight glistening Is dead wind, the white corpse of wind. Also the galaxy will die; the glitter of the Milky Way, our universe, all the stars that have names are dead.

In: Tim Hunt (ed.), The Collected Poetry of Robinson Jeffers (Volume 3)