Three Poems by Cam McGlynn

My Universe Runs out of Stars

This Equation Shows That the Universe Will Run out of Stars
         (Scientific American, July 11, 2024)

We sit in the middle
of a cosmic afternoon,
red clouds headed
towards evening.
One day soon, you
will let the neighbors’ dog
out to play and forget
to put her away. We’ll walk
the neighborhood, hand
in hand, as you try
to call her home,
without remembering
her name.
Here, in the red-shifted past,
can we predict
which future day
will be the last one
a star was formed?
What formula will show
the day
your last star shone?

*

Total Obscuring of One Celestial Body by Another

         to my daughter

I wouldn’t write poems about the eclipse.
What can I say that hasn’t been said?
My hand’s curled around your small fingertips?

“Biblically awesome” might come from my lips
but only defined like “I’m trembling in dread.”
I shouldn’t write poems about the eclipse.

The dusk broke too fast. I couldn’t come to grips
to the graying of day and the colors all bled.
My hands couldn’t feel their own fingertips.

Our ancestors read omens of apocalypse.
I wondered if soon I’ll be one of those dead.
I’ll never write poems about the eclipse.

In the darkening day, when the sun, my star, slipped
behind the small globe of the moon’s crowning head,
your hands curled around my large fingertip.

Darkness was there, but there too was the glimpse
of how sun rays are birthed and daybreak is spread.
I’ll try to write poems about the eclipse.
Curl the pen in my hand with your fingertips.

*

Yellowstone

elk bugle
bison bellow
geysers gasp and groan

fractured faults
rumble heat
out of fumaroles

microbial mats
of thermophiles
grow out green and gold

belching mudpots
stink the hides
of steaming buffalo

bear cubs learn
from mother bear
how to grub and gobble

whortleberries raked
from their stems
burst by the mouthful

rhyolite chunks
of old, cold crust
grind to granite and gravel

tell me, please
what faults of mine
could also be this bountiful
*

Cam McGlynn is a writer and researcher living outside of Frederick, Maryland. Her work has appeared in Open Minds Quarterly, Helios Quarterly, Cicada, Quatrain Fish, and Bewildering Stories. She likes made-up words, Erlenmeyer flasks, dog-eared notebooks, and excel spreadsheets.