Tonight I walked down the hill in my victorian neighborhood. Orion was rising above, chasing the bear or the lion or scorpio. Celestial cages. This man with his bow posed to hunt the animals until he is tiny past the zenith. A spinning tent of stars. Pushed up on the poles of the ages hanging in a forever canopy over my head.
A light comes on in one house in the very top window. A woman's head is framed in it and just as suddenly the lights went out. I see my own lighted windows. Their warmth calling for me and promising a bed and hot cup of tea. Suddenly my loneliness lifts and I smile and stand for a little while longer. Watching the ancient night.
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