A perfect day, standing on the train platform to go home,
the late evening sun golden as a dragon's treasure,
when an earth-ending roar shifts eyes to the sky and
there to humble all,
the Concorde takes off from Heathrow,
almost straight up, its edges haloed by the light.
Beauty on wings.
In a few months this magnificent,
never to be bested machine of optimism,
will fly no more.
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 8:57 AM UTC
I
4:30 A.M.
The Moon shines directly into my eyes as I sit,
prosaic and calm,
It some 238,900 miles away and they say
3.8 centimeters farther from Earth than
this time last year.
I read of a plan to monetize the Moon.
Monetize the Moon?
The Moon must have read the same
article and thought,
Enough of this Moon/June
tune/loon business.
I’m finding myself a nice uninhabited planet
to lighten, to orbit, to influence.
Monetizing is not in my Moon Contract.
So long, Sucker Earthlings!
II
Cosmic Matters
The early morning moon is cloud-smudged,
exhausted from a week of heat,
can’t pull itself together to make a tight circle.
Really, though, some galactic giant gyring from orb to orb
could have step-stoned the moon - on its way to Mars,
perhaps -
and discombobulated the moon’s defined
roundness
and now, its pale, borrowed, low-karat shine
is disheveled and bleary.
This leaves me with two questions:
Will it be cooler today?
How did the cosmic giant miss Earth…or did it?
III
Missing Moon
Is it the June Gloom’s shroud
that hides your early morning glory
or is it not that time in your cycle,
for your cold elegant light is unseen
and my morning writing is not illuminated by you
but by a small bulb controlled with a switch.
Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 9:26 AM UTC