Mark R Slaughter


Telescope


Why?

Frozen fingers fiddled on the focus
Dew dripped
Dark hindered
Constellations laughed –
Not least that I was daft –
And made me wonder:

“Why? ”

As nostrils dripped, charts rung damp,
I tripped across the tripod,
Swore – either that or cry!
You’d HAVE to question:

“Why? ”

The once-hot chocolate lost its charm,
I dropped an eyepiece,
Scratched a filter,
Neighbours’ lights were off and on
And on and off, to goad a sigh;
I’m asking loudly:

“Why? ”

And then I found it –
O! the view; behold! the need for depth of night! –
These beauteous heavens out of sight
From straining naked eyes.

Imagination fires a flame –
Sanity free of any blame –
This childish verve to never tame:

My telescope is not a game –
It answers all the “Why’s? ”

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2012

Submitted: Saturday, January 14, 2012

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  • Sara Fielder (1/22/2012 10:52:00 AM)

    Your enthusiasm for looking at the night sky through the telescope comes through tangibly in this poem. I can see you there! (Report) Reply

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