I saw something very strange last night when I got out of bed to use the bathroom. Out the east window I saw a bright white light in the sky. Not knowing what time it was, at first I assumed it was Venus. But it wasn’t dawn yet. And then suddenly I noticed that it was slowly moving straight downward. It disappeared out of view behind my neighbor’s house. I looked at the clock, and it was 12:26 AM. I still have no idea what it was — it seemed too slow and straight and steady to be a meteor, but I don’t know what else it could’ve been that would’ve been moving in a linear downward motion. We are still in the tau Herculids date range, so I suppose that’s a possibility. I’ve never seen anything like it. Checked the local news for the day but didn’t see anything. Guess I’ll just never know.
I saw 6 meteors last night during the tau Herculids meteor shower, from my backyard. I wasn’t expecting to see any, given how light our night sky is here in Phoenix! The first one I saw at 8:45 pm MST, just while going out briefly to check the location of the constellations. Then an hour later I laid on the ground and saw 5 more from 9:45 to 10:15 pm. Nothing after that, so I came back in at 10:30 and went to bed. It was a wonderful night!
moonlit winter trees
bare branches paint gray shadows
ghostly risen roots
snuggled into a warm cozy bed
weather wakes this sleepyhead
with a blustery December night
white clouds reflecting city light
cold drops fall fast and furious
a clattering house, mysterious
midwinter storms in and wails
frigid rain and whipping gales
cold winter night wind
warms my soul but chills my bones
spring sleeps in the earth
knocked over by winter
lays on his side in the east
rise & shine for the night
twinkle, twinkle hunter stars
you are nearly as tall
as my eyesight is wide
will you and your pups
protect us while we sleep?
The moon shines
into the dirty desert air
with a rusty opal halo —
Scorpius has lost his way
behind the thin clouds,
city glare, smoke, dust —
His heart shines in some far
better place — but not here
in this smoggy summer.
Hummingbird mama —
abandons her nonviable eggs
but keeps checking back
a few more times, just to be sure.
Nested arms fall off a saguaro,
break open on the ground
like fragile eggshells —
after decades of desert still-life
a few seconds of death-motion.
But the night breeze is so beautiful
those breezes are — so beautiful,
it’s hard not to get swept away.
We have now entered the birds-chirping-all-night season.
Standing in a silent still-dark February morning
Cool dewy grass grazes half-bare sandaled feet
Lo! Saturn arrives as Jupiter saddles Sagittarius
Mars burns red near the glowing crescent moon
Serpens slithers against a vaporous galaxy border
Antares winks green and gold, crimson and rust
As Scorpius swings its tail at the southern horizon
Libra starboard and upward of the crowded scene
Balancing askew over the poor impaled lone wolf
Ophiuchus a bystander in the busy celestial show
Prayer to the middle-of-the-night gods:
please let me sleep —
thank you for the beautiful moon
and winter silence
but please let me fall back to sleep —
Moonlight is a beautiful and comforting reminder that the sun is still out there somewhere.
in bed at night his mind had a ferocious imagination
reality and unreality haunted his turbulent brain
the years ticked, an infinite clock of destiny
searching moonlight for the promise of a future
his reveries of heart were coasting on a fairy’s wing
as the world and universe drifted by fantastic shores
but the sea, work, and women — physical outlets —
were his anchor — something old, hard, and soft
scrambled blackout poetry created from F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby, 1925, Scribner 2004 trade paperback,