The accident in the morning

This is a personal picture taken of the reflections of clouds in one of the windows on the 107" telescope at McDonald Observatory. This was taken on the day my husband proposed.
This is a personal picture taken of the reflections of clouds in one of the windows on the 107″ telescope at McDonald Observatory. This was taken on the day my husband proposed. The poem is fictional.

The accident in the morning

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.

Collecting Shyness

This image comes from the University of Colorado Boulder website here.
This image comes from the Southwest Research Institute website here. Can you spot the secondary eclipse?

Collecting Shyness

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.

Crescent

neptunetriton_voyager_960
Visit APOD for more information.

Crescent

Voyage to the place where the sun is a star.
Turn the eye back for a shot in the dark.

And see the combination of luck and timing
molded for a crescent turning into darkness.

The next thought, the unknown worlds, un-
numbered, joining more every exposure.

Wonder, the number of suns turning with
how many planets, we are alone.

Would you like a Milky Way?

This amazing image was captured  by Blursurfing Photoblog - Tom Ryaboi Photography
This amazing image was captured by Blursurfing Photoblog – Tom Ryaboi Photography

Would you like a Milky Way?

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.