We could not see the Venus Transit from our latitude
but could sense her perambulations.
The Naples sunset was shuttered by clouds
though pinpricks of light
gilded the sand.
My dog, Audrey, pulled by the tides,
orbits and gravity
chased hermit crabs through the surf,
and discovered a dead fish
smothered in seaweed.
Earlier that year, pulled by his pain,
Tommy Gabel decided to morph
into Laura Jane Grace.
Audrey, Tommy and I
will not be alive
for the next Venus Transit.
And I, pulled by my sadness
pen poems for no one.