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On Passing My Thirties
Years ago, I liked to know
OOOWhat transpired in the sky
The pointillistic pageantry
Extending knowledge here below
The spinning planets, there and fro
OOOThat Earthly hem belie.
To find the slope on telescope
OOOOn a moonless, cloudless night
Of red Antares, in the south
Was to tie a different rope
And speak of freedom in a trope
OOOWhen drift was all my sight.
If the moon, to let it tune
OOOThe instrument's glare
Upon its oceans gray with dust
And shores shone white in blacking noon
The fence between the sun and hue
OOOOf emptiness’s stare.
Time would pass, on hourglass
OOOTurns and fortunes led me find
Desiderata on the ground
To abrogate the shiftless class
Whose membership I’d not surpass
OOOBy looking ‘yond the blind.
Now I see, in spite of me,
OOOConstellations twinkled dim
And thoughts of galaxies are flown—
Replaced by worldly claims that be
And boxed, the old refractory
OOOOnce gifted on a whim.
OOOWhat transpired in the sky
The pointillistic pageantry
Extending knowledge here below
The spinning planets, there and fro
OOOThat Earthly hem belie.
To find the slope on telescope
OOOOn a moonless, cloudless night
Of red Antares, in the south
Was to tie a different rope
And speak of freedom in a trope
OOOWhen drift was all my sight.
If the moon, to let it tune
OOOThe instrument's glare
Upon its oceans gray with dust
And shores shone white in blacking noon
The fence between the sun and hue
OOOOf emptiness’s stare.
Time would pass, on hourglass
OOOTurns and fortunes led me find
Desiderata on the ground
To abrogate the shiftless class
Whose membership I’d not surpass
OOOBy looking ‘yond the blind.
Now I see, in spite of me,
OOOConstellations twinkled dim
And thoughts of galaxies are flown—
Replaced by worldly claims that be
And boxed, the old refractory
OOOOnce gifted on a whim.
A lot of this went over my head. I get that it's someone who once got a gift of a telescope who didn't have some huge interest in it at the time but who later enjoyed it and now has once more lost interest. Given the title, I'll guess the theme is that aging makes you lose your wonder? I don't get the prompt tie, unless the internal rhyme on the first line of each stanza means I'm to take that as two lines so each stanza has seven. The rhymes work well, though the meter takes some liberties here and there. I wish I understood more of it, because I like the mood it strikes.
This poem has a nice sound and the anecdote is mostly clear. There are a few blurry lines. For instance, what is the "rope" in the second stanza? Another might be needed to explain what the "shiftless class" is to a reader not familiar with the writer's biography.