Adaptation / Ambient / Jupiter, Last Night


now that you have come
and gone,
the gospel of your days remains,
no longer lightning,
thunder in my sky

but simple now, soft,

the sound of autumn in the trees,
fog against the brittle edge of leaf


Brian Eno’s “1/2”

notes that talk to planets passing suns we’ll never see,
breath of black, white,
quiet voice of God across the galaxies,
a million moons, a single sliver, rock, river,
whisper through the summer screens,
the humming of the universe


Jupiter, Last Night

on a blue-black night in March he came to visit Venus,
distant uncle since the family grew apart,
translucent grey, aloof,
officious yet respectful in his conversation,

moons in tow, obedient like children in a line,
ducklings in a row, chicks,
the tail of a kite;

I gazed amazed,
breathless not to startle them to run,
skittish in their midnight walk across my sleeping sky

Category: Poetry