the enso

detail from "Venus and the Moon" by Mark Hiebert

the poem

Like life, light often ends
before the shine is realized, stretching
further than you anticipated. The moon,
in its full expression, is a circle
or so you have been told. Peeking
between the crepe myrtle branches, you see
a drop of milk spilt on the twilight sky.
You replay the childhood stories of men
who lived on pearls of cheese in space.
No, you say, it cannot come to this: a speck
of a promise almost lost.