Syzygy

Seen from the moon, the earth is jewel-bright:
a swirl of blues and yellows, greens and whites.
Surveying space in search of life, you’d know
immediately – it looks alive. You’d slow
your engines to a whisper and just stare.
Whole oceans shine: they really are azure;
the forests emerald; the deserts gold.
Even the clouds cling like wisps of packaging
around some infinitely precious thing
plucked from a ruin and unwrapped intact.
By contrast our old friend the moon looks whacked –
like some pasty impresario, glimpsed
through a midnight window, pulling strings
to keep the whole goddam show on the road.

Julia Deakin

published in collection Without a Dog, 2008,
Graft Poetry, ISBN 978-0-9558400-0-5