Arctic Air

March 22 2017

In the dry cold

of a high pressure system

each star is sharply etched,

sky black

as absolute zero.

Where the planets wander

among the stars

just as the ancients saw them;

Mars, tinged with red

the silver-blue of Venus.

Where shooting stars streak

then silently extinguish.

A cosmic mote of dust

turned super-heated fireball

in the planet's outer atmosphere,

some primordial rock

after billions of years.

Our eggshell-thin layer of air;

its molecules, so lightly held

diffusing-out into space.

Where the slender slip

of a crescent moon

dangles like a sky-hook.

In its curve

a silhouette of earth,

the planet-sized shadow

of our only home.

And its ghostly rim

you can only discern

if you look and look;

its oceans of dust, blasted calderas

subsumed in gradations of grey.

I briefly glanced up

before the porch light triggered

and the universe instantly shrunk.

Just me

in my murky penumbra of light

brought quickly back to earth.

I'm playing around with perspective here, widening and narrowing the aperture; and in so doing, incidentally exposing the fragility of life on earth. This is a familiar trope in my poetry: insignificant man, in all his self-importance, in a cold indifferent universe. I'm not thrilled to be so predictable and tiresome. But in my defence, I rarely start out wanting to say this; I just can't seem to help coming back to it!

The sky has been quite spectacular lately: cold dry arctic air has settled in, and it acts like a clarifying lens. Except I'm aware that most people never look up. Or if they do, light pollution lets them see little. I have the privilege of living with relatively unobstructed skies. I thought of this again when I was recently talking with my brother, who lives in the greater Toronto area: I mentioned the waxing of a fabulous full moon; he was oblivious. Which gave me the closing paragraph, and which – I modestly submit ;-) – makes the poem.

The title is a bit of misdirection. But I think legitimately and effectively sets the scene.