Venus In The Evening, Venus In The Morning

Venus is closer to the Sun
than Earth is. Venus seems to run

to catch up with us, to be near.
But close, Venus will disappear.

Venus disappears twice, fading
to a crescent, then vanishing

into the glare of the sunset.
Then Venus, the nearest planet,

is nearest but untouchable,
here with us but invisible

to any Earthbound telescope.
Our eye machines grab light, can’t cope

with pure stuff direct from the source,
the Sun running its daytime course.

And when Venus does reappear,
early, if the dawn sky is clear,

Venus is a crescent waxing,
running away fast, perplexing

our mirrors, lenses, brain machines
dreaming of more beautiful scenes.

Venus, leaving, gets small, gets whole.
Venus, away from Earth, stays whole.

All this reminds me of something.
Something like a song I can’t sing

because I know the lyrics but
the song’s melody has been cut

from my mind by a laser beam.
Something like a fake, fake, fake dream.

Something so close my brain machine
can’t cope with the thoughts these words mean.