Robert W. Crawford

To Outer Space and Back

On First Looking Into Hubble's Deep Field

So much, so many multiples of many

That many has no meaning any more;

Worlds spun on a cosmic spinning jenny.

Too much, so many multiples of many,

So what if I can plant a flag on any

Darien or undiscovered shore.

So many many multiples of many

That many has no meaning any more.

We’ve traveled by the moon,

Past Mars and all the rest.

We’ve shared a cosmic view

In stellar destinations.

Yet, I still think the best

Is to lie in our field with you,

Listen for the loon,

And trace the constellations.

Robert W. Crawford has published two books of poetry, The Empty Chair (2011, Richard Wilbur Award) and Too Much Explanation Can Ruin a Man (2005). His sonnets have twice won the Howard Nemerov Sonnet Award. He lives in Chester, New Hampshire, and is the Director of Frost Farm Poetry at the Robert Frost Farm in Derry, NH, responsible for the Hyla Brook Reading Series, the Frost Farm Poetry Conference, and the Frost Farm Prize for Metrical Poetry.