Reblog of last year’s poem during the Perseids Meteor showers. This year the sky was cloudy and the moon was very bright so didn’t get to see much at midnight. At 3 am, could see them faintly. Maybe next year…



In the mythology of


It is lucky to watch

Their tango-ing across the

Indigo sky

I try

To peer between the canopy

Woven by a family of

Live Oak

Leafy branches

At least fifty feet in the

Invisible air

Reaching for each other

Comforting like a mother

Sheltering offshoots

Humans, critters and birds

Effective nighttime screen

Impedes my view

So who could feel impatient

With them

Even though the Perseids will remain hidden

In the northeastern sky?


On the other hand

In the folklore of comets

It is unlucky to see one

Ask Mark Twain

Born and died

Between the 76 years

Of Halley’s Comet

Although Twain somehow knew

It would be true

For one who came into the world

With the tongue and wit

Of a firecracker

And would leave the same way.

Yet William the Conqueror

In 1066

(Remember that date in

European History class?)


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