At midnight at the edge of the deck,
the long flappy leaves of the canna lilies
tumble and bow and nudge one another
in the night wind and the moonlight.
Above them,
the poplars overlooking the garden
stand ready to net the full moon in their leaves
or permit her passage through their branches.
But instead, Jupiter escorts the full moon
across the equinoxial sky
above them all.
As the sun rises for hours on her full shining face,
she describes a long arc across the clear night sky,
unaware of her harvest light,
of the boys and girls come out to play,
deaf to their whoops and calls.
In the magnificent motion of the heavens,
she slides across and away,
captured by a necessity of movement,
which Newton termed gravity and Dante, love.
Lorna Harris
September 26, 2010
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