OBLIQUITY
The tilt of Earth's wobbly spin,
Like child's gyro dancing
On a string to a slow tango,
Slightly askew,
Twenty-three degrees, give or take
A degree or two,
As Fate has deigned it,
Is its obliquity.
This cant which sends our yellow star
South with the birds
In winter
And pushes it
Higher in the sky
To melt the snow
In spring,
Recalling warblers and thrushes,
Is tended by moon's pull.
Without its pearly satellite
Our orb would overlist
Or ride as straight as a
Crisply spun top.
What a world it would be
Without the tug of the moon
Or Earth's obliquity!
1996. David J. L'Hoste. All Rights Resrved.