Poem

August Night at the Little Thompson Observatory

Total eclipse of the sun next week
On the other side of the Atlantic
the sun will wrap a halo around
the moon's shadow.
I'll just imagine it
and settle for falling stars from a comet's tail,
grains of sand
on fire in the heavens.
A Tinsley telescope
is my giant spyglass in the night.
Light years away,
galaxies, star clusters,
a great gaseous donut;
birthplace of a star?
And all the time we're looking
at what used to be.
Outside I can't help but look up.
The Big Dipper points me north,
to Polaris.
How can it go on and on forever?
Or does it just stop?

Erin M. Wurtz
7th grade
August 1999