pleiades loosed in december

pa pointed out to me for the hundredth time tonight
the way the ladle leads to a dirt-red bullet of light
squint skyward and listen
loving him

we move within his borders
just asterisms in the stars set order
we could stand for a century
staring
with our heads cocked
in the broad daylight at this thing
joy
landlocked
in bodies that dont keep
dumbstruck with the sweetness of being
till we dont be