Telescope. Poem by Conor Dowd
Telescope.
I arrange the telescope
in cooling night,
the half-light of retreating dusk
retreating with the thinning light
and disappearing in the West.
In focussing and zooming in
a billion miles of space is right within
my grasp.
I gasp when Saturn first appears,
so ringed-around, familiar, yet so near.
Two songbirds in surrounding trees add
chorus to the astonishment I feel.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 1:50:40 PM # 1.0.0.1119
