Venus and the Crescent Moon
by Charlie Morgan
At 5:15 in the morning,
they seem to meet in the cold western sky.
The sun waiting to rob
them of their darkened shroud of night.
The eastern sky changing hues
as photons, on their eight minute train,
Begins eroding poor little Venus
illumed spot til only a salt grain remains.
The Crescent-moon keeps its stature;
its size snares the gazers leer.
Venus, now only a memory
after a courtship of a billion years.
Each, dearly locked in a life-force gravity-spin,
forever moving in a game, neither can win.
For eons they face each other in a whirling dervish dance;
ever embracing each other: no chance.
Its just not in the stars, lovers and scientists agree,
nor will it ever be.
Two terrestrial bodies on courses of an astro-spatial chart;
light-years theyve been together,
light-years theyll remain apart.
04/18/2005
