Looking at the Stars
We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars. — Oscar Wilde
Slower than we can see,
the constellations decay, fall apart.
Orion’s belt crumbles, sword drops,
shoulder flares with fatal wound.
The Seven Sisters leave home,
lose touch with one another.
Big Bear and Little Bear
stop foraging, hibernate, rot away.
The dark woods we wander
swallow the paths we made,
era by eon. No matter.
We’re mulch along the way,
fetor in a crooked ditch.
The road was a mirage.
We perished in this wilderness.
— Bryant Jacobi
4/27/25
(NaPoWriMo 2025 Day 27)