(© Words by Paul F. Cowlan)
Driven through cryptic frost
and a gauntlet of stars
Orion bugles his clear dogs up
to face the moonís disguises.
But sheís too bright and dangerous
this sabbath time of month,
nurturing swallows and clipped hope.
She can summon a bull
with forked horns and stars in his tail,
and a truant hare, giddy as quicksilver.
Even the dogs desert,
pointing in windless space,
stiff and ecstatic.
The Hunter blinks
and muscles his folding shield,
rings nebula to scabbard
and bandies small-talk with The Twins.