Saturday, March 12, 2005


I forgot to post a reminder of last evening's conjunction of an eyelash-thin crescent Moon and Mercury. From here, at least, it was exquisite.

The wisp of Moon with its elusive companion brought to mind the first poem in Alan Shapiro's newest book of poetry, Tantalus in Love, which I have just finished reading. The last lines:
            ...Make us see
no matter where
we gaze that the bush burns

And we, the spun clay, will rise
to a receding
holiness and sing, as it recedes,
How filled with awe

this place is, and we did not know it.