Sunday, April 6, 2014

Buried lakes

Water is discovered in Enceladus
at the same time my eyes run dry.

Dramatic plumes force their way out
through cracks in an icy crust

sitting over a sea of liquid water
at the moon's South pole

while tears are washed
down the open fractures of my orbits.


  1. That juxtaposition in the opening stanza is the most amazing set up for your poem and the metaphor is so well-developed until that dazzling final line.

  2. favoring moons with your fancy, now, are we? really fine metaphor ~