Arcturus is that star to glimmer subtlety in the evening, and he shares a page of mythos with the night. Like the watching eye of tenders who officiate the sky, he glimmers pastel colors, soft, but bright.
Some twenty times the size of Sol, he's a beacon in the sky. He’s part of honest history, or... the sum of those who’ve died... Fusing helium to carbon, he prepares to launch in death... more elements conducive to ourselves, and that's no stretch.
Now, a breeze would stir the grasses of an aging spring expired, like the wine sweet effervescence in a flower. In the sky above our heads a spinning timeless sweep of space... ...Too, Bootes is watching bears revolve, empowered.
As the night bird's sonic singing has no feathers we'd deploy, that canopy of stars provides no shield... There's naught to keep us safe against our night fears when they show; we fear insentient power we don't wield.
We’re the thinking part of water,
And could be taking better care
Of a cradle made a cesspool,
Or our home in sad repair.
“Global warming’s total bullshit,”
Said a person in my car,
But my mind was on lightheartedness
So I didn’t take it far...
...Except to say , “I hope you’re right,”
And my professors have been looney.
...Fast computers model tripe,
And disaster’s "looming hooey."
I hope your birds do sweetly sing
In greens, and golds, and browns.
Too, never have we cause to fret...
For dying, hapless towns.
The sky has lost it’s robin’s egg.
Still, the saucers haunt the sky.
And the History Channel asks the kids
“Are there UFO’s, and why?”
Their report was: kids don’t buy it.
They’re not believing in...
What’s lurking in the shadows
Of their father’s bosses’ *friends*.
And they sure don’t cop at college...
Where they snort a rightist's blend.
They won’t question their *convictions*,
And they’d sooner break than bend...