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The Moons of Jupiter
Outside, our breath rises, light's focused through clear lenses, the magic of thick, polished glass, of mirrors.
Tonight I see the moons of Jupiter: four tiny crescents lit by the sun in line, in orbit, the planet like a star.
Since childhood I'd heard their names Io, Europa, Ganymede, Callisto… but I never thought to see our sun's bright arc define their surfaces.
Now they are real. I know their solid weight suspended, sense the easy glide of partners dancing circles at a distance, our globe, our moon, huge forces swinging ellipses, invisible attraction.
Jupiter. I can even see its stripes!
© Steve Walter Lancaster LitFest 2002 Poems 25 - Literary Oxygen
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