Today's poem is by Erin Rodoni
If No Energy Can Be Created or Destroyed
Before she turned the ultrasound
away, I saw my tiny unmanned satellite.
And distance. Unbridgeable.
I trusted that wand to illuminate
like a flashlight my own dear
and darkly growing, but I saw only
without a fleck of pyrite.
Foolish to wish
and faith at the same time.
There's no pulse
to you, moon, no sea
foam from which to pearl a mortal
breath, no fins to foot
or follow. Inside, I maintain
my chronic summer, roughly
37 trillion cells, each so unknown,
it might as well be that lonely edge
where orbits slow and bodies drift
With such gravity we hold you,
moon. With such ease
you tug us into arms and swords
to fall on. A woman I don't know
wrote I feel like a walking tomb.
I'm still trying to name the way.
Perhaps thisthe indistinguishable dark
where the moon still is, but has turned
its face from us.
Copyright © 2017 Erin Rodoni All rights reserved
from A Landscape for Loss
The National Federation of State Poetry Societies
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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