Keith Seher
Meditation at the Hubble Telescope
Was the phrase “perfect” silence? “infinite…?”
I heard it described by an astronaut
after a space walk; he took a moment,
then repaired what millions were spent
to send him there to repair; a moment
in contingency, men at monitors
frowning at the pause, the unalloted
lull of motion, the memorized checklist
unrecited. What he made himself full
or empty of I cannot say but imagine
a walking light with so fewer frictions
in closes less enduring, thresholds held
and reflected in the imperfect lens-
the thickness of one lost or added breath.
The Dream We Need
Painful this lamp-light, more near us
than the sun’s great hearsay distance
can ever close. In everything
that does not like a lamp expand
and retract, omega then alpha again
we’ve learned to be disappointed.
In the slow nightfall, no blackout
to catch your breath after, too blue.
Even the hungry lungs of trees,
all volume and all surface, reach,
then spine alone with its own bend.
We have no time for the elapse.
Even nightmares are impatient.
We may wake straight from freefall,
recall a certain peace- never
the dream we need, the prolonged wait,
numbly from a doctor’s office,
searching your pockets in the sun.
Finding yourself at home six weeks
after the long pictured journey-
only the final expenses spared-
is over, is spent and the house
is full of things you cannot think
who else might want, know to protect.
When squeamish friends stay away
just as they stayed from others’ beds,
those who come come before dinner
and say goodbye no differently-
no memory of swallowing
through this waits to help you swallow.
Or clear your throat to clearly speak
the scythe verses of helplessness
we only hear in our own voice
the once, in the slow confusion
of sentence reshaped with each word,
of light bulbs out-glaring the sun.
Axiom
Just as zero slipped as a multiple
into an equation of any size
by its presence makes itself the answer,
cancels formulas however complex
and specific, simple and beautiful,
illuminating and rare but for one
quality, crucial and wholly absent,
so soon every question I may ask you-
though now can I predict your reactions,
know which expressions of yours mine trigger,
have in my memory every factor
needed to replicate the sign of you-
must contain an irreducible no,
no, she never said that, you never asked.
Author Bio
Keith Seher is a New Jersey native living in Macedonia, Ohio.
