A Christmas Card of Halley's Comet

The fast and faint and temporary star,
Dragging the streak of tail that in our comic books
Is the artist's way of representing speed,

Heads out diagonally across the field
Of royal blue darkness with some specks of stars,
Where, absent the beasts, the shepherds, and the kings,

The unmanned universe remains, traversed
By this ice-blue burning snowball that returns
At the interval of an aged person's life

And wastes the rest of time crossing the cast
That separates one nothing from the next.
Words fail us, and The Word, that failed before.

Howard Nemerov was twice Poet Laureate of the United States. He died in 1991.
Originally published:
December 1, 1986

Featured

Reading the Declaration of Independence as Holy Text

How the American creed emerged—and evolved—over 250 years

Writing

Unpublished journal entries

Searching for Seamus Heaney

What I found when I resolved to read him

Newsletter

Sign up for The Yale Review newsletter to receive our latest articles in your inbox, as well as treasures from the archives, news, events, and more.