Orion
In this cold
I either walk
toward the light
or against it,
but I must walk.
And you, you stand
arm raised in defiance
ready to strike the lowered horns,
but never called:
an unanswered wager between us -
stiffly unresolved.
The frame is stopped,
yet traveling from season
to season, you are twisted -
seemingly different,
as to an infant
turning a kaleidoscope
into the light -
red, blue, and white,
glittering in the eyes.
You stand still,
a foster brother to life,
merely random
like the stranded Greek cells
that made you breathe,
be beloved,
and die -
all in the length of an ancient tale.
Striding forever the sky
by our imaginations - only,
yet, as real
as the arrow
that carried you off in an afternoon.
Some will walk toward a light,
but I, like you,
will stride
into the cold eternal night.
Streator, Illinois
December, 1976
Grand Island Series
©1976 Orion — Joseph W. Yarbrough
Reproduction prohibited without written permission.
I either walk
toward the light
or against it,
but I must walk.
And you, you stand
arm raised in defiance
ready to strike the lowered horns,
but never called:
an unanswered wager between us -
stiffly unresolved.
The frame is stopped,
yet traveling from season
to season, you are twisted -
seemingly different,
as to an infant
turning a kaleidoscope
into the light -
red, blue, and white,
glittering in the eyes.
You stand still,
a foster brother to life,
merely random
like the stranded Greek cells
that made you breathe,
be beloved,
and die -
all in the length of an ancient tale.
Striding forever the sky
by our imaginations - only,
yet, as real
as the arrow
that carried you off in an afternoon.
Some will walk toward a light,
but I, like you,
will stride
into the cold eternal night.
Streator, Illinois
December, 1976
Grand Island Series
©1976 Orion — Joseph W. Yarbrough
Reproduction prohibited without written permission.