Astronomy
by Ann Edmonds
April 18, 2007
Lying on the grass on summer nights,
My father liked to watch the stable sky,
Predictable and still,
Its patterns geometrical and sure.
If a star should jar and fall,
Its journey would be short,
Auspicious,
And worthy of a wish.
My father did not wait to see
The sky he left me
Where now false novas crowd
The constellations,
Distorting logic and relation,
Shifting, flickering, wavering,
With borrowed light.
When these inevitably fail,
Wishes would be wasted
On their fall
About the author:
I was born and raised in Galena, IL, before it became a tourist magnet. Yes, I eventually became one of those English teachers that you're always talking about.
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