Each night, absent rain or snow
upon arriving home from work
my husband goes directly, gets
his telescope, carts it out
through the mudroom
to the backyard.
There he mounts it
on a tripod secure
and in the winter darkness
points the lens straight up
to the stars, searching,
scanning, slowing,
each amazing nebula
of stunning mystery
in this dark universe
on this chaotic planet
in this turbulent country
and this overcrowded state.
Then when the machine is ready
to rest and clouds cover his path,
he breaks it down, brings it in,
and opens his laptop, fast,
to the universe he just
captured all evening.
After “Bread” by Richard Levine
Photo credit: Jason Abrams
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