OWLING AT THE MOON

OWLING AT THE MOON

Wide eyes of wonder

Look for the rising moon…

We “owl” past the distant trees

To see what will fortune.

Large and round or misshapen

It looms above the trees…

Prophets, priests and princes

Fall upon their knees!

Whether bright or harvest red

Its color changes ought…

Those who think that this portends

Will warn of futures fraught…!

Whereupon, the distant orb

Will rise into the sky…

Seemedly to shrink in size

And many wonder why?

One Earth Science teacher claimed

This totally was wrong…

T was no difference in size,

His disapproval strong.

But, says I, the moon

Seems to hold a special gift…

To enlarge and shrink before

And after horizon left.

One more open-minded wag

Of scientific bent…

Was a more compassionate

Sort to a layman’s bent.

Said he that–or was it she?

T was change by point of view…

Look at the moon through your legs

And find size changes, too!

When we have no reference

As to the moon’s real scale…

It will appear large

Before the sky it sails.

Coloration seems to be

A function of the atmosphere…

At an angle sighting through

Haze or pollution near.

Scientific explanations

Scarcely shed the gloom…

Or the wondrous joy we feel

When owling at the moon!

–Jonathan Caswell

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