Reflections in a Dead Eye
by W. Adam Mandelbaum
You that are the pickled punk of the planets
In obituary orbit 'round a living rock.
What does your dusted stone eye witness?
What do your frozen mountains touch?
Such romantic antics here proclaimed
They've named you lovers' sky clad beacon.
To seek in you dark passion's light.
Night's realm for you mere tides and time,
Nor rhyme nor wit shall make you more.
Than dead light cast on dying shore.