OK, I think two more and these are for both for my beloved,
the nonfiction writer Melissa Feb-- no.
[LAUGHTER]
There's a lot of foolishness happening in our house.
We just like saying each other's bio to be just silly.
OK.
"I did not mention the moon, but it too showed out.
What leads me to the bull's red eye but longing?
How better to calculate the longing than with light?
The light recently arrived here was
born alongside your mother, who gives you respite tonight, 18
hours away, an hour ahead.
My binoculars bring into focus the Hyades,
Mars, the Seven Sisters.
The sky crackles and crusts with stars.
I become dizzy.
I lower the lenses and close my eyes.
So touched am I by the sublimity of time and distance.
Twin telescopes rendering humble my small life.
What sound can I make in my reeling?
What rubbing wing or fluting spectacle?
What bellow or snort will reach you before its collapse?
Know that I hum for you, though you cannot hear it.
I hum into the mouth of this poem decades of light."