I took Astronomy one summer.
I would read one line of text
then blankly attempt to defragment my existence
in the off-white texture of cheap rental walls.
A black hole rang in my ear,
the accelerating universe numbed my tongue.
String theory. Gravitational lensing. What’s a quasar again?
As it turns out there are 146 moons in our solar system.
Yet, somehow I am just now getting to know one.
To appreciate the agony of the scorpio moon,
to release and recite my intentions on the full.
The harvest moon, the blood moon, the waxing moon.
My moon and I, we’ll call it complicated.
In all of those years did I ever look up and think
I’ve only ever seen the near side of that moon?
That in just one thousands year’s time the earth
tethered the moon into a promenade of tidal lock
earth always taking the lead.
I, mere mortal, gawked at the crescent moon
a crisp smile in the belly of the whole
with it’s same whole face
accommodating the shadow and shine of it’s host rock
and molten star
with no reverence for my mood or ambition.
I believed like you that the phase of a moon
from new to newer took 29 days.
Oh contraire mocked the stars
try 27 days, aren’t you wise
aren’t you waxed and wained.
We’ll call you simple.