Poetry

Astronomy Lesson

We’re here to visit stars— cave paintings in the sky. A slice of roof whines back cuts the sky like cake. The dome revolves, scrapes to line its telescope with target raises its proboscis as alien as what it shows us with its Cyclops eye: Saturn tilts in silent bands. Constellations rise and set kicked through earth’s horizon. Far out each star’s a parent we don’t know. Nana Ollerenshaw

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