Cyclops

Grady McMurtry

5 June 1942

Into a bowl of deepest night it peers

And probes the utmost nature of the vast

Eternal marches of the suns, to cast

With esoteric glyphs the path of years.

Steel forg’d prongs grip fast the adamant

And jumbled crags of charred obsidian

Strew close the base where, twined ophidian

The space washed girders gleam and twist aslant.

And to this rock, this deathbound airless world,

It seems the tomb of gods whose questioned Why

Has stripped them of their lone divinity

Come strange marked men who seek a knowledge furled

In deeper space. Who train this monstrous eye

To gaze forever. On infinity.

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