Lost Echoes of Some Young Yet Ancient Star
Fast radio bursts come from outer space, We measure them and try to plot their trace; First thought to be some cataclysmic scar, Lost echoes
"this is sixth form poetry, not Keats or Yeats"
Fast radio bursts come from outer space, We measure them and try to plot their trace; First thought to be some cataclysmic scar, Lost echoes
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Your boyish charms are more than temperate. My favourite Physics Brian after May, I wonder what we