Aquarius, the virgin whispers, giggling,
so close to the schoolgirl she is,
always tells the worst jokes, although
Cetus seems to enjoy them.
Orion’s the night's hunter,
steadfast and sure, always dodging
sting and stung. He gives way
only to the kings and queens,
keeping an eye on their dogs,
daughter, and all her wings.
Castor and Pollux are, perhaps,
the most human, loyal in their love,
the most curious about the lives
they once lived. We were all once you,
they confide, peering over the edge
of the dawn. We all remember.
The seven sisters link hands,
weave crowns from what beams
the sun leaves behind
with the coming dusk.
They treat the heavens as a field,
sitting cross-legged in circles
when they are not linked,
playing games with those below,
creating stories, much like we do