Arts + Scene » Poetry

Super Moon Over Eureka



What was Super wasn't
the size (it was waning)
or the brightness (though it shone
like a torch through my skylight,
pulling me in a human tide to the roof) —
no, what was Super was
that you could see it! Clear sky!
And a few planets —a nd was
that Rigel, there in Orion's foot?
(Where is Barry Evans when you need him?)
Hell, this is where they taught
the boys to land in the fog.
Fog was what we could count on.
So much slipping away, in a photon wash.

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