Orion

there are three stars

in a row: Orion’s belt

trace upward, find the shoulders

and the knees, to right

there’s the bow in his hand

at his heels nips his faithful hunting dog

i don’t remember who taught

me, but there’s a vague voice

whispering, murmuring

my parents are not big on stars

perhaps a teacher or a counselor then

from one of the countless camps

i went to, a tv show from somewhere

i don’t really know

it’s sad, in a way not quite like sorrow

but a mix between nostalgia

and the dream that was important

that you swore you wouldn’t forget

(of course you did)

(i was just a kid)

(did you expect me to)

(did i expect me to remember)

yes, yes always

i have a problem

of not knowing how to let go

of things i can’t control

the night is dark and 

half cloudy, the kind you don’t

see often at this time, and if i

squint, blur the colors out

(a technique taught by)

(my art teacher)

(at least i remember that much)

(but oh, i can’t remember who)

(or which teacher, goddamn)

it looks black and white

just like my life

when things were simpler

Orion shines above me

but he too gets dimmer every year

and aren’t we all tired warriors

waiting to fade away, scatter our

ashes to the wind and our legacy

to the people, our story to some

person we’ve never met

i point my finger upward

look at the three stars, i say

but my little brother, like my parents

also is not one for stars

his stories lie in a place

different from the place i’ve found

solace, but i know

(i know, god i wish i)

(i wish)

(he becomes someone)

(better than me)

history repeats himself

we all eventually wind up in the same place

is he lonely, up there

(there were more)

(before the light pollution, scientists)

(or scientifically inclined people)

(would remark, but for me)

all the stars that once dotted our

pitiful tired sky, faded

Orion, teach me how to forget

teach me how to look down at

the miserable travelers, teach me

how to live when everyone around me

has moved on

Orion, isn’t it lonely up there

the single warrior

i direct my gaze to 

every night, stands by himself

a patchwork of legends and imaginary

lines, tying him together