ELIZABETH GRACE STRASSHEIM
Commended - 2023 Tower Poetry Competition, 'The Planets'
Waning
We lived in the city for a while so we could not see them
and when we moved to the countryside this didn’t change.
Christmas lights dropped on a carpet
marbles across the floor
the poster on the classroom wall: your family portrait.
We picked our favourites and cut tissue paper circles
Earth, because I am here
Venus, because she is pretty
Jupiter, because it’s the big one.
So we have magnets on the fridge and stars on the television
the light holepunched into the sky waning outside
and people shouting across the kitchen table
a young astronomer is in the house
who can tell you the names of the bodies
named after Gods
but a brother cuts in with
a comment about satellites
and another cuts in with
something about how what can’t be touched doesn’t matter in our world.
And glass beads orbit across the room
as a child hurls them at her friends
after the teacher had lifted the lid from the jar
she scattered the planets across the floor
and announced to them all,
this is your universe.