|Fireball from the 1998 Leonid meteor shower on Nov. 17,|
Photo by astrophotographer Lorenzo Lovato, 1998. (SPACE.com)
Imagine sitting on a rock, tree top, or lone
and naked peak while fireworks of celestial
origin fizzle so near you must cross your arms.
I stood quite close to sparks of paper burning once—
back when we burned our own trash in backyard barrels—
and loved how front and back of me turned hot and cold,
but found eyebrows and hair ends singed, curled back and scared.
I see the moon. turning on its spit, roasting in
the sun, but split and pocked into craters and crags.
Perhaps celestial showers are also beautiful
and ominous. Imagine clinging to a rock,
rooftop, or lone and naked tree, admiring
the stunning fireworks as meteors miss us
this time, leaving a trail of destruction elsewhere—
where they’re from, where they are and where they’re going.
For my prompt Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Meteor Showers
My blog poems are rough drafts.
Please respect my copyright.
© 2017 Susan L. Chast