How indulgent it feels to just sit
in a chair and read all morning.
My new book, a cup of tea,
warm silence filled with so many words
that I am wealthy as any king.
I am a passionate notetaker, scribbler, annotator,
a maker of lists, To Do and
even Done. Cafe-writing, a woman sits beside
me. She writes. I stop. Sip coffee.
She leaves. I make notes about her.
Asterism, not a constellation, the Big Dipper
are stars most people can easily recognize,
Part of Ursa Major, the Great Bear,
it dips deepest in this November night -
a bear hiding in trees beside me.
According to EarthSky, the Micmac Indians of southeast Canada, call this Celestial Bear appearing so low in the nortyhern sky this month is the signal for hibernation season when the earthly bears return to their dens They view what we see see as the Big Dipper’s handle stars as hunters forever chasing that Celestial Bear.
You look for a sign, and then,
finding it, you find nothing. No directions.
No answer to where you are now,
or to what lies ahead. No warnings.
A present and future that are blank.