• A comrade fallen; a fellow lost;
    Can anyone ever guess the cost?
    The nine are now eight,
    A brother is down;
    Is it too late
    To save its crown?
    Ceres and Eris may be there to greet
    But its loss is still no small feat.
    But the brothers and sister,
    Still on the top,
    Seem not to have missed ‘er,
    Despite the drop.
    As eight and then three
    Slowly circle our sun,
    Not jumping the gun,
    I say that you’ll be,
    A planet to me.