by Chris Farago.
What rough astronomy we build for ourselves on these cloudy nights!
There is a sky behind that wall;
We have seen it, let it mingle in our minds
With the hyacinth, the honeysuckle,
“Take Five” tapped out on Orion’s belt.
Everything together; the universe, together;
The universe, ours for the taking,
All those damn stars for the taking,
If we can just get over that wall.
We map the points, the weapons,
The low-flying birds,
The famous men of no importance.
They belonged to us; they will again.
What rough astronomy binds us to those we know so well!
We long to keep this hoary peace within us,
To stop it from sublimating away:
We serve no masters but the stars.