I step outside into the dark;
moon’s glowing so bright
it’s making shadows of the railings
And I think in dark times
Reflect the light, and
bars appear. Keep up the fight.
poem-sunglasses at night April 10, 2025
poem-glow September 28, 2015
You rise, a blood red orb,
taunting star-gazers as you
cover your face behind a grey blanket.
poem-glow June 2, 2015
Moon glow through our window
illuminates you, bestowing silver
ribbons upon your hills and valleys,
inviting me to stroll their glassy paths.
The moon insists on marking you
with her lunar kisses, and I will humour her,
for she is envious I share your pillow,
while she can only hold you from afar.
Poem- What I learned July 21, 2014
What I learned about you:
- you did not hang the stars
- you did not shave the moon
- you did not fuel the sun
- you make me super nova
- you make me new each months
- you make me shine
What I learned about us:
- we’re celestial
- we’re changing
- we’re burning
haiku- moonrise in Arizona December 25, 2013
The great orb rises
into a molten sky
above endless red dust
crescent moon haiku April 14, 2013
God has left a toe
nail clipping on the best
blue velvet bedspread.
RIP Neil Armstrong. August 26, 2012
I was four years old when I joined a group of men in our back alley looking up into the sky. At their pointing, I was certain that I could see a little black dot: the rocket carrying the astronaut crew that arrived on the moon.
I was in my teens, when I was in an audience to hear astronaut Jim Irwin talking about what it was like. He described looking back on Earth and thinking it was just a blue marble.
Neil Armstrong echoed that thought when he said,
“It suddenly struck me that that tiny pea, pretty and blue, was the Earth. I put up my thumb and shut one eye, and my thumb blotted out the planet Earth. I didn’t feel like a giant. I felt very, very small.”
You may remember how in the movie Men in Black the alien disguised as a talking pug says,
“You humans! When will you learn size doesn’t matter? Just because something’s important, doesn’t mean it’s not very small.”
This concept is reiterated at the end of the movie in this clip:
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Requisate in pace, Neil Armstrong. You captured a moment of greatness that emphasizes our exiguity.
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Shawn L. Bird 