Leonid

We went over villanelles in poetry (which I absolutely love; look them up on wikipedia) and I wrote one about watching the Leonid meteor shower that happened a while back. The first version is an actual villanelle, and the second is where I rewrote it in free verse.

Leonid (A)

Dragged like cigarette ashes through
the constellations, a comet flies--
the light-pricked heavens painted blue.

I set my alarm clock for three
AM to wake and watch (or at least try)
the light-pricked heavens painted blue.

The soft cool nighttime did not flee
as the comets did; all but one died,
dragged like cigarette ashes through.

The chill, still air spelled peace to me
when I saw it drawing slowly by
the light-pricked heavens painted blue.

It first slid in behind a tree--
a gold-red ember in the sky--
dragged like cigarette ashes through.

An hour later I could still see
the comet, printed on my eyes,
dragged like cigarette ashes through
the light-pricked heavens painted blue.


Leonid (B)

I got up at 4 AM, setting my alarm clock to
nudge me from my bed, and
I put on socks and a sweatshirt--deliberately,
half dreaming and half wide awake.
Things seemed surreal in that dark morning
before the light, and as I slid open the glass
one spark shot through the inky blue night
between the pinprick constellations.
Then another. And I stood and watched,
with no concept of time or cold or impatience,
I stood and watched a gold-red ember fall screaming into
our atmosphere. To us,
it slid in slowly
and dragged itself above the treeline
like the lit end of a cigarette,
glowing past the houses and trees and roads.
In the 4 AM dark, I stood and watched.

L