Seven days is not very long, and
the sky has been building
toward something for you.

The moon is waning, and
the egg is still in your pocket.

It is June 9, and
Venus and Jupiter have aligned
in Cancer, magnifying your luck.

You’re writing about New Lenton and
the Bellona Loop, and
your chest is splitting open again.

The rain falls steadily, and
the house wren has been
singing all morning, and
you haven’t heard this song before.

And, somewhere, a Sagittarius
born in the far north
still lives, you suppose, and
you’re not part of it.