Of Quicksilver
(after Robert Frost)
One year, at the caravan park
where my grandparents and I
spent part of each June, walking
and bathing in the sun and baiting
crabs with bacon, the owners’ son
bought himself a telescope. He had
his own business elsewhere, I think,
outside of Barmouth, while his parents
kept watch over wild pigs and
old ponies and caravans.
One night, the son invited us out
to see through his telescope,
positioned on the grass above
the road lights and the scattered
town. He had my grandad look first,
who laughed and quietly scratched
his moustache, then left the lens
open for me, and suddenly:
the moon collected
into an intimacy I hadn’t even seen
my own face; suddenly more than
some local name, this luminous pool,
silvering the night. I stared into it until
the telescope was shifted, to see Jupiter
and Mars, trembling in their earthy light,
but eventually the cold became as crisp
as water, my grandad had to take me inside,
and I tried to understand what it was
I should do with this full moon
resting underneath my eye.
Learn more about Connor on our Contributors’ Page.
Looking for more to read? Check out the Largest List of Independent Publishers.
(Photo: overduebook/flickr.com/ CC BY 2.0)
*
Introducing the 2023 Best in Rural Writing Contest. $300 in prizes, as well as great exposure for shortlisted authors. Deadline: September 30th, 2023. For more details go here.
We’re grateful to partner with AcresUSA, who is North America’s oldest publisher on production-scale organic and regenerative farming. AcresUSA regularly organizes events to benefit farmers and ranchers who are actively improving soil health, agronomists breaking new ground in soil and plant science, and livestock managers cultivating holistic systems. Browse their events page to see what they have planned for 2023.
- Of Quicksilver by Connor Harrison - July 20, 2023