2015 Poetry Post 14: A Grain of Sand

a grain of sand
in the right place
moving the right way
can inspire a wish
and move a heart

2015 Poetry Post 13: Working Scenarios

I sometimes imagine
that all of this work:
Looking for asteroids,
working scenarios,
strong personalities,
is all just like Act I
of a disaster film.

I remind myself that
I’m not so genre-savvy,
and that the
hubris and genius,
leading ladies,
swashbucklers,
villains and anti-heroes,
are working
not for a happy ending,
but to have no ending at all.

2015 Poetry Post 12: On Return Visits

So many ancient wonders
within three kilometers
of my position,
an easy walk.
With a bit more mobility,
I could reach
countless treasures.

But most of my time here
will be spent
in a convenient location
with a nondescript view,
Concentrating on the job
I was sent to do.

How much worse
would it be
if instead of a one
trip to Rome
of a series,
I were looking
out my window
at a fine regolith,
Earth hanging
in the
blackest of voids,
precious hours
used for
checklists
and catalogues,
with no prospect at all
of a farewell espresso
within sight
of the Apennines.

2015 Poetry Post 11: They worshiped

They worshiped
in a way we do not,
hoping for intervention
by Mars
rather than the reverse,
acknowledging the beauty
of Venus
instead of
dwelling on unearthliness,
dreading acquaintance
with Pluto
instead of eagerly anticipating it.

2015 Poetry Post 10: She Could Be

The woman next
to me gushed when
she learned
I was an astronomer.
She asked me
the usual questions
and I was happy
to answer.
She said I
was so lucky
and I couldn't
disagree.

She says
she wanted
to be
a scientist
but
never
thought
she was good
enough.
I could tell her
that I'm sure
she would be
good enough,
but would that
be a kindness
to her?

2015 Poetry Post 9: Pearls made of beads

It came together
softly,
we think:
a beaded work
of ice and glass
with pieces born
throughout the solar system
and pieces borne
on hydrogen winds.

The first push
must have been soft
as well.
After eons beyond Neptune
perhaps a gentle tug from an
unknowable star
or a poke from an
anonymous neighbor.
A change in speed
a glacier could outrun
leading to catastrophic
climate change.

The first encounter
was by chance
if inevitable.
A random disassembly,
violent but low-stress,
more Roche than rock
as pearls made of beads
were served on plates
full of stars.

When the end came
we were privileged to watch.
Ice and glass
borne on hydrogen winds
in a ceremony completed
by uncounted
and unwatched
cousins before.

---

This is something of a group effort: The excellent Christine Reuter and Noam Izenberg are also writing poems on the topic of Comet Shoemaker-Levy 9 today, and there's the chance some others will also join us!

I'd also be remiss not to point out this is SL9's second appearance as a poem subject. I wrote about it in 2012, though that has a very different slant. I've also incorporated a bit of more recent science into this one. :)

2015 Poetry Post 8: Questions in my head while traveling from south to north

What will we bring
with us
into the galaxy
if humanity
expands
as some say
we must?

Will the first tattoo
predate the first PhD?
Will the first dive bar be constructed
before the first statuary is commissioned?
Will we construct townships
of obsolescent habitats
before we build kindergartens
and teach kids
what it means
to be "it"?

Will the first mojito be poured
before the first hangover is suffered?