Radiance
The Roman candle of a yard light
caramelizes the old snow.
The glow trespasses the dark hold
of December, dimming the view
of the night sky with its winter
triangle a boy strains to see
through the haze, as he lets his jacket
hang open, unzipped to the cold.
He knows to return through
the black cleft between buildings,
below electric wires that seem
to carry a little train of snow
on their slim rails, where he throws
the switch that shuts off the bulb
on its pole, that opens the dome
to a blast of stars in outer space,
to the pinpoint of Jupiter,
to the constellation of Orion hunting
the Great Bear that the boy follows
to find a smudge of gray–he can gaze
through that peep hole to another
galaxy also spangled with radiance
from stars that traveled two
and a half million light years
before appearing as a signal
in the rod cells of his eyes
that pass impulses through
neurons and nerves
to his brain that creates images.
He draws in a sharp breath,
the high voltage power box
of his chest hot and humming.
Copyright Credit: Margaret Hasse, "Romance" from Earth’s Appetite, published by Nodin Books. Copyright © 2013 by Margaret Hasse. Reprinted by permission of Margaret Hasse.