Dark Cockroach and Gas Giant

Between Jupiter and a bug on the rug,
What’s our best frame of reference?
Life is an agent of chaos on Earth,
Although one species tends to think
Of the whole turmoil as miraculous.

I never did see the thin crescent moon rise
This morning, though I was there, there
On this day of hazards, minor, major.
A fat, dark cockroach, panicked, led
Indirectly to a stubbed toe kicking at it,

Just to get it away from bare feet
In the dark, Earth’s one moon hiding
Somewhere behind serrated cliff shadows,
Leaving the gas giant, Jupiter, to be
The brightest light left in a fading velvet.