I did my best to point out constellations, planets and stars.
It was never case of wanting to fill vast gaps in your education.
But a line through Dubhe and Merak connects Polaris and Regulus.
An offshoot of it runs through me.
I wished for you to share that same experience,
to reach out for the Dipper’s handle,
embrace the Winter Triangle, go cruising with me
across Orion’s sparkling fields, hand in hand, eye to eye.
No point being with a guy in thrall to night sky,
if the city’s neon is galaxy enough,
the names of clubs and restaurants
are all that enables your imagination.
I stood out in the field near 10 P.M. staring up
at the cloudless heavens, waiting for you to join me,
Canis Major, Sirius, Betelgeuse and Procyon,
for an evening of wonderment and splendor.
You chose a night out drinking with friends instead.
I hope your get-together sparkled.
Mine can’t help itself.
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Penumbra, Poetry Salzburg Review and Hollins Critic. Latest books, “Leaves On Pages” and “Memory Outside The Head” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Lana Turner and Held.