Up There

Maneuvered by metaphor,

sashayed with clichés,

I looked up and it was still there,

that sun pasted between

a cobalt wall

with translucent clouds

brushing in the fore.

A golden pill hung

before I ever was

and hanging still

when my blip bleeps its last.

I relish every age spot

given by its graces,

and return its due

respect after

tender shoulders

absorb aloe vera.

A light by which

I see.

A warmth by which

I feel.

A presence by which

I love.

A Mote Point, Maybe. I missed the transit of Venus.

It was a dot

which floated.

It was the eye


Maybe the


of degeneration.

Macular senses

dulled by

a speck of

space dust.


Triple Play. I think I missed an eclipse. Three poems on what happened when I wasn’t looking.

“A total lunar eclipse occurs when the Earth passes between the sun and the moon, throwing the moon into shadow.” Space.com


Landing a Lunar Pitch


The moon and its seams

settled in my split fingers.

I will throw it into a shadow.


I have to toss it fast alright,

the earth and the sun are in rare form

so timing is everything.


The Umpire set a thin strike zone.

The catcher suggested this pitch

and I tipped my hat.


But where is the batter?

Is he outside of the shadow box?

I picked up the rosin bag and wondered.


“May I cut in?” Earth


That is double dip darkness.

The moon emits no inner light,

then the earth cuts in line.


The shadow of humankind

cast across emptiness

to the man on the moon.




The yellow sun

and the green earth

birthed a blue moon.



“Every good gift and every perfect (free, large, full) gift is from above; it comes down from the Father of all [that gives] light, in [the shining of] Whom there can be no variation [rising or setting] or shadow cast by His turning [as in an eclipse].  James 1:17 The Amplified New Testament

And God Created Metaphors for Children–And Adults Can Tag Along.

Could the moon be a peep-hole?

Could the sun be a spot light?

Could the stars be pinpricks of the eternal?


Could the ocean be shedding tears?

Could the tides be inflections in a voice?

Could the waves be ballroom dancing?


Could the mountains be a la mode?

Could the foothills be out for a stroll?

Could the valleys be hoarding  echoes?


Could I tag along child, and wonder around with you?

Could you share your imagination with me?

Could we see if God brought something for show and tell?