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Star Maps

November 12, 2016

The stars in their random shapes
are nothing but burning stones
some gone, some only uncharted
memory of fading light.

I could never figure out
the constellations, & now
this book tells me the Greeks
saw them differently, & if
you lived on another planet
you would have different
myths, or not.

The stars are not our business, &
remembering the pock marks
on the Moon is like naming
trout, or our own self-
inflected spasms & stains.

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From → Poems, Prompts

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