Poetry

A prolonged tea break

I’m sitting on top of a ladder, balanced on the rung

gazing down at the world.

Stars are beaded into my hair

and moon dust glitters on my cheeks.

My clothes are patched with space junk

and I’ve tired myself out signing to the satellite

that I don’t want to come down.

They’ve asked me to move, to go back

to earth and mingle with the life once more.

I don’t want to risk my health – there’s a plague

of humans itching to infect me.

To ask me, to corrupt me.

Even Hades has no time for that.

Poetry

Light and Space

The universe is in a light bulb.

Stardust coating the filament,

specks of light in the distance

expanding ever outwards,

and comets passing by.

 

The galaxy is in a puff of smoke,

swirling off into the wind.

Planets, stars, dark matter,

all gone in an instant,

or drawn back the next

Poetry

Miss Universe

And I can see the stars

swirling around on her dress,

a meteor shower by her ankles,

an eclipse over her shoulders.

Her earrings are red dwarfs,

her rouge made of cosmic dust.

She freezes the solar systems

and puts them in her iced tea,

which she sips as she admires the galaxies

framed forever on her walls.

Poetry

The Thoughts of Those

The moon glanced up at the sun. It

Had never worked

With such a well-known star before

And was more nervous than the first

Time it glowed for the Earth.

Of course, it had always seen

The sun, but now they were cast

Together for the Eclipse

(A momentous production);

How small and pale it felt.

The sun didn’t notice

The moon’s nervousness.

The sun was busy looking at

The giant audience of peers

Gathered around to witness

Its Moment.