SunOur sun is at its quietest in years,
Complexion free of blemish, bump, or spot,
Yet all is not as calm as it appears—

It shines more dimly, ramping up our fears
With hints of entropy’s insidious rot.
Our sun is at its quietest in years,

As radio astronomers make clear.
(But do they understand why?  They do not.)
Yet all is not as calm as it appears:

The solar wind is sadly in arrears,
So what a mess of cosmic rays we’ve got!
Our sun is at its quietest in years,

Which lets observers burnish their careers
Consulting gadgets NASA half forgot.
Yet all is not as calm as it appears,

& physicists just mumble in their beers
Extrapolating from this simple thought.
Our sun is at its quietest in years,
Yet all is not as calm as it appears.

Copyright © 2010, Ann K. Schwader

Image Credit: SOHO (ESA & NASA)

Ann K. Schwader's fifth collection of poems, Wild Hunt of the Stars, is forthcoming this year from Sam's Dot Publishing. She is a member of SFWA, HWA, the Haiku Society of America, and the Science Fiction Poetry Association. When not writing, she frequently volunteers at her local branch library in Westminster, CO, grows herbs, and indulges her corgi. To learn more about her work, please visit her web site or check out her LiveJournal, Yaddith Times.