Rushing past the whites
of the universe’s eyes
pale, not-blue, and heavy–
despairing in the dust
of old life–while, perhaps,
the embers of carbon
the combination generating
the warm blue glow
of a new species, Perseid’s
sister waiting for the dust
Countdown to seconds dying,
countdown to five then four.
I want to keep my promise.
If only I could say ‘I’m sorry.’
Countdown to the days left behind,
countdown to three then two.
I want our last kiss to stretch.
If only we’d finished that book.
Countdown to one.
I left a note on the mirror.
I want to send out a big Thank you! to everyone that has read and enjoyed my poetry throughout Global Astronomy Month. Hopefully, everyone has found a connection with one piece or another. It’s been a blast writing so much this past month, although I won’t lie at times I didn’t know if I would make it! Now I’ll get back to aiming for a poem a week (and hopefully more). Please let me know if you like anything and I’m always happy to hear from anyone. If you have any questions about my poetry or just want to talk about astronomy and/or poetry please feel free to email me at ameejhennig(at)gmail(dot)com.
Eclipser, I see you hide.
Blushing behind the
brighter light of one but
your dip is significant, if
small. I want to take your
age-old memories and collect
them in a peppered collage. Tell
me, those endless turns you’ve seen.
I want the moments you fell.
I would rather eat glass.
Leave me in a city and watch me wilt
under the eyeballs staring thirty floors
up–opposite my idea of progress.
Blinking their blinds and blaring
out at the orange clouds–they are lost
in a smudged mess. Declining to witness
anything more than the steam leaving
a coffee or a candy bar containing nothing
more than caramel, chocolate, and nougat.