Calista's Comet

I am outside after sundown every night at present,

Tending to my stallion’s wound.

When I came in at dark, a message from a friend

Was the first I’d heard that there’s a comet to see.

I went out again right then to have a look.

It was in vain, though, for I didn’t know enough.

The next day I got guidance in hopes of success,

And I vowed to give viewing another try.

200716 Calista.jpg

The day was long and after the sun was down,

My resolve about viewing began to waiver.

Going to bed seemed much more attractive.

But then when I went to fetch the mares in,

Calista helped to recharge my resolve again.

She was standing on a knoll all by herself,

Looking to the northwest as if she could see

The comet hidden still by the light of the day

But worthy of her attention in spite of that.

The pictures I’d seen set my expectation

That the comet would be close to the horizon.

I decided then that I would drive to a high place,

Armed with the guidance to find what I sought.

The guidance was to use the Big Dipper’s stars

As an arrow towards where to gaze.

When I arrived up high only two stars were visible

And I wasn’t sure to which Dipper they belonged.

A third one soon appeared but I still couldn’t tell

If the guidance would lead to success.

Minutes ticked by and darkness seemed slow to come,

And my resolve began to waiver once more.

To pass a few moments I pondered my stallion’s wound

And how its dark edges are growing in on pink flesh,

Just as, at the horizon, the darkness of night was closing in

On what lightness was left from the day.

Then I looked up again and there the Big Dipper was

And I lined up the stars of its cup’s base.

Following them, angling down towards the horizon,

I was greatly rewarded to see what I’d come to see.

The comet faintly shone through the day’s end.

My tired eyes made its faint light flicker.

Its tail appeared to move about like a cat’s,

Back and forth, up and down, short and long.

Then as darkness grew, the comet became still

And larger and somehow worthier of awe.

It also stood higher in the sky than I’d expected,

So I returned home to see where it would be.

My house is in a protected hollow.

The protective hills mean my horizon is high.

I was rewarded again, though, as I found my guides,

For the comet was perched just above the hill .

I’m thankful to Calista for helping me view

Comet Neowise in person not just in pictures.

Without her stance on that knoll on the hill,

I might not have seen this comet at all.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020