The big dipper scoops the horizon
While Venus observes, trailing behind.
Do my eyes see better with egg on my face?
I see more stars tonight than I’ve seen in a while.
The Southern Claw is drawn by St. Elmo’s Fire,
Is drawn to Castor and Pollux.
With their touch the pull is strongest,
But touch they must or nothing will start.
Touch they do, and the Southern Claw is moved,
Moved nearly out of its place in the sky.
But the planets misaligned,
The omen of St. Elmo’s Fire misread.
The Southern Claw is forbidden,
Promises to never draw so near to Castor again.
This forbidding if held to brings foreboding;
An auspicious ending to the beginning.
Another misalignment of planets,
The Southern Claw tries to hold St. Elmo’s Fire.
But a claw can’t hold plasma,
So an offering is made.
But the effort and thought and distance are masked:
Poor presentation, or did Pollux instead
Reject the Claw? Offering rejected,
The Southern Claw examines the planets again.
Twice misaligned, twice misunderstood,
Two times the yolk dripping down my face.
It seems the Southern Claw and Pollux
Are separated by a gulf in the sky.
I stare bewildered at what happened,
Befuddled on the horizon.
Could it be I’ve been reading
The map upside down?
© 2014 H.K. Longmore