The sun drags us across the galaxy.
The shy moon slips back into the earth.
A background noise is contained in the void.
My job is to navigate the sun
through the echo, not running into anything
more substantial than gamma rays.
I make course corrections from the kitchen
at the sink as I wash dishes.
It is accomplished by how I align the tableware in the drainer.
The affect of these imperceptible course changes
may be measured no sooner than ten-thousand years.
I determine the corrections by observing the flights of magpies.
If I hold the refrigerator door open too long,
Jupiter slows its orbit and repositions its moons.
If I forget to sweep the kitchen floor
Saturn alters the tilt of its rings.
copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney
