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The North Star centers its pinprick
brightness in the shining bowl of night.
Depending on the season
and the time you can find
Cassiopeia, the Pleides, Perseus
peeking over the horizon, wheeling
patterns above our heads.
We follow the stars home.
Brother, I worry about you:
you have lost your sextant.
Your astrolabe is useless
the stars unintelligible
the moon is just the moon.
You drift rudderless on
becalmed seas.
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Another beautiful piece. I don't think this needs any changes, despite the fact you say it's a rough draft. I enjoyed the way you build up the huge sky, and then set this against the person it's addressed to.
