I hope these instruments will tell me what
You are. A god? A dog? A joke? Or all
These three combined? Your ever-growing dot,
In infrared, looks oddly tropical,
Warm, compared to the surrounding void.
You float there like a coconut: brown,
Round, shorn of life’s green husk. Buoyed
And battered by a cosmos not renowned
For generosity, you are a breath
Of fresh air: with a planet-wide plateau—
A heart. A giant heart. I confess
That valentine came as a shock. Pluto,
You were my first encounter. And my last.
My battery is small. My power dies.
It’s true: the wastes of space are unsurpassed
In loneliness. But once, I was surprised.
by Eric Norris
Editor’s Note: There can never be too many astronomy poems. This one is light and amusing, but no less poignant than yesterday’s.