nterference patern produced with a Michelson InterferometerIn the hours most susceptible
to dreaming, dear lover perfect,

my limbs perform experiments
in the airborne dew,
clawing at the atmosphere
the Upper Sky,
to discover at least a shadow
of your breath, to capture
the scent of your natural diffraction.
You, a mythical aether
propel my lit wick of desire.

I've placed the mirrors,
perpendicularly around
the mercury pool,
and my laser upon
glass half-silvered
to detect you,
to conjure you,
unseen but known
floating, fickle creature.

During waking hours, though,
you are a defunct dark ages
theory, a whisper shimmering,
in a cool vacuum,
then stillness and silence
never a chance of existing
in my arms at all.

First published in Physik Garden
Copyright © 2002. Claudine R. Moreau

Image Credit: Falcorian, some rights reserved

Claudine R. Moreau is a professor at Elon University where she teaches astronomy and physics. When she is not in professor mode or writing poetry, she enjoys running and backyard stargazing with her 8" SCT. She gets totally geeked-out showing folks celestial objects through a telescope for the first time; she loves hearing the gasps when they make out the tiny rings of Saturn, see the same four moons of Jupiter that Galileo witnessed in 1610, or just catch the wispy blue green nebulosity of the Orion Nebula out of the corner of their eye. She’s had poetry appear in The GW Review, The Bitter Oleander, and Arsenic Lobster.