Poem in Process: April 5, 2016

Photo: Atia Cole

Photo: Atia Cole

Queen Cassiopeia

Unable to rule your tongue—
bad mother emblem—now,
in your silver chair, you rule
your little cube of space, fixed

in a celestial ski-lift,
always circling the North Pole,
as though hurtling, cross-purposed,
in your starry tumbrel,

to the zodiacal carousel;
a traveler fated without arrival, yet
winking, as you pass, every time;
your beauty, Blurry Zigzag,

always poised over some sea:
billions of volts, possibly:
visible, time-vanquished starlight
and unmeasurable light to come.

Leslie Schultz

It has been so cloudy in Northfield that this morning the clear night sky came as a surprise and a delight. I looked out the window to the southeast and thought I saw the distinctive shape M/W shape of this constellation, and…this is the result. (A big “Thank You!” to Atia Cole for this marvelous silvery and blue photograph from the Bahamas.)

Until tomorrow!

Leslie

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