Focus

Sometimes I find it odd what gains, then loses, our attention.

The normally bland face

Of Uranus

Is now extremely stormy.

The camera on the comet

Has shut down

In the dark.

Eyes trained on the heavens

The melting ice cap,

Ebola

Have lost

Their audience.

Wars and rumors of wars

The man or woman

On the streets

The person in the pew

Beside us,

They join

The periphery.

We wait for the comet

To streak closer

To the sun.

We hope more light

Will start the data stream

Again.

Meanwhile Uranus

Is stormy.

No one knows why.