The Neighborhood


Ancients marked the constellations,
pointed to each in the sky,
noting slow pageant
from horizon to horizon.

The bull, the twins, the water bearer,
each had a story,
as did every star, the planets
and swift-changing moon.

Worship, dance
with upraised arms.


Through Voyager and Hubble
we see Saturn’s rings rotate,
a broad band of remnants
wisp thin, which sometimes braids.

Raging storms ride across Jupiter
in delicate swirls.
Supernovae burst outward
as halos of light
surrounding shattered shells.

Cloud columns of gas and dust
birth stars.
Galaxies swirl and collide,
peel tendrils from each other.


Walking outside at night
beneath street lamps,
past picture windows
aglow with dancing light,
a few dim flickers
filter down from heaven.

Only the moon, the big dipper
and morning star
have names.


2 thoughts on “knowledge

  1. I like the revision and particularly, the use of “Only the . . .” to both introduce and envelop the concept.

    One small technical quibble. The line “and swift changing moon” should be be written as either “swiftly changing” or “swift-changing” to avoid the grammatical jolt.

    Poetically, I saw the word, moon, as “moons” the first time I read the verse. Might the plural form work a little better here.

    Again, you have captured both a feeling and an imagery in your poetry, painting with words what you see in your heart. Thank you for sharing.


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