Kepler’s Song
- Kepler’s Song
I tell you, we can measurethe weight of stars,infinitesimal but surelymeasurable, a dustingof stellar heft on our flesh;that we are stirredand coaxed by thin lightpiercing shadow.I had searched, searchedthe far circles of the sky,twisted concave mirrors untilnight spilt into my bowls.Then one night my fingers felta faint pressing—I turnedin the dark thinkingsomeone had breathedon me. Then on my handI saw a spot of round light,a drop of curd-pale moon. [End Page 123]
Michael McCarthy
Michael McCarthy lives in South Haven, Michigan, and is working on a nonfiction book about a twentieth century Great Lakes shipwreck. His poems have previously appeared in Poetry East.
