Member Poem

Gazing Up

Walking out of the chain store, beginning his stroll

down the road to his house, underneath the sky’s bowl,

he looks up and sees points that are smaller than peas:

Jupiter rising above the dark trees;

Venus en route to the western skyline

leashed to the sun like a docile canine;

and higher, bright Cygnus (the beautiful swan)

and the Summer Triangle. Yet others are gone,

for the streetlights obliterate much of the view

of the cosmic expanse above Fern Avenue.

He cannot descry the immense Milky Way.

Constellations too subtle lie hidden. No ray

of light from those heavenly bodies will make it

to his eyes. A strange thought floats around. He can’t shake it:

Like the foxes and bats who are blind to the heavens,

man hunts not for the stars, but for 7-Elevens.

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(Appeared in Nite-Net, International Dark Sky Association, Dec. 2008, Vol. 1, Issue 6)