And still another Odysseus poem

THE MOON WILL ONE DAY FALL:

Can a moment be all moments?

Or, rather, thinking clearly this evening as I stare up

at the distended moon, so heavy

she threatens to fall into labor

and scythes the world over gasp at the thought,

how can it be that many moments fractured in time

and circumstance

are able to resonate across disconnected events

so a similarity of attention captures us

(and we might even whisper

that it is the breath of the Goddess

or our flimsy soul finding itself aware

for the fleeting moment of thought

that haunts us)?

The arrow that pierces…

Achilles pursed lips shocked yet

knowing — his mother had, after all, warned him.

Penelope beneath me, her lips also pursed, her eyes

shocked yet knowing  — her mother, after all,

had warned her.

The black ship cutting through waves, the sound

it makes somehow echoing her gasp,

his cry,

and my heart’s rapid beat

and above us all The Moon —

mother, lover and fated to fall

and we all hope

we are there to see it

and that we are not,

for, like the Siren’s sound that lingers in my ears

long after we had passed that sweet voice’s range,

we will not forget it.