Here’s the poem by Simon Armitage. With a revised ending …
The Beacon 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 flecked, 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 ...
... just so long as we're pissed by ten and don't miss our Tapas steaks.
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