I See Faces Everywhere Poem by Stan Petrovich

In the starry fields
WC Fields, with bulging nose;
In Hubble pictures of Venus,
Shostakovich, with his coke-bottle eyeglasses;
On Mars there is a real face,
But that one is a fake,
A mere symmetry that looks real
But is not. Ray Bradbury is there instead,
Where he belongs, at the floor of a crater cracked
And with ghostly shadows.
Carl Sagan rests on the face of Saturn,
Hidden behind Titan's shadow,
Wallowing in evidence of life out there,
His bushy eyebrows forming clouds
And a pillow of streaky red gas for his flowing forehead.

I can't go walking anymore
Without seeing these faces in bushes, trees, burms and woods;
Convinced they are not real,
They propose explanatory details I cannot resolve,
And therefore do not explore.