In the solitude of sky
a single star,
and close, just above
the earth’s dark mass,
an arc of gold
rims the moon,
a bow drawn against the unseen sun,
the star its fiery dart.


We run with Wolfgang.
Winded, I lie flat.
Looking up,
I think I’m looking down
and wonder why I don’t
fall into all those stars.


Orion rises over dark cliffs
sending shivers down my spine.
Connect the dots and see
A great hunter, or imagine
what you will. The great quadrangle
rules the winter sky.

Judy's Orion cropped for use on wordpress


They only come out at night:
scorpion, centaur, serpent,
bear, giant,
A Rorschach test of ancient fears
creeping from caves and crevices
of the consciousness.


hovers above the horizon,
blazes red and green
like a hummingbird
caught in the sun.


Can seven stars contain a bear?
A pan, perhaps, pouring out the night,
or a cart circumlumbering the pole.
A bear entire requires a dark,
primeval night, ancient night,
when bears held fief in the north,
the great bear in greater form
prowling the pole.

The Weekly Avocet, #69, April 6, 2014

Oso Negro to Scott

Singing with Stars in the High Desert

I step outside to see the stars
in this clear and moonless winter night.
The air is crisp and cold and lightly
smells of piñon burning not far away,
its fragrant smoke drifting across
these greasewood hills.

I feel the sting of cold against my face
as my eyes adjust to the dark.
Sirius is bright at Orion’s heels–
The Great Bear leads her cub
across the pole–
Andromeda glows faintly
in the corner of my eye.

I strain to hear a yip or two.
I know coyotes are out tonight
but hear only a distant dog.
His solitary intermittent bark
articulates the silence.

From the black sky, dense with stars,
I seem to hear the hum of light,
stars singing like Blake’s at creation.
The infinite seems immanent.
I want to be among the stars.

I am among the stars.
The pungent piñon clings to Earth,
and yet I soar, singing with stars
of light and life,
eons and distances,
voids and matter

The Weekly Avocet, #168, March 2, 2016

Art's starry night

Wolfgang Chases a Star

Night in the high desert,
the thin air crisp and clear,
the stars dazzlingly bright.
The giant Orion strides through
the southern sky,
his hound at heel. Good boy, Canis!
Wolfgang would have charged ahead
on a walk on a desert trail
or chasing a ball I threw ahead.
In my mind’s eye I trace a line
along the stars: Murzim, Muliphein,
Sirius, Wezen, Aludra, Adhara,
and see Wolfgang,
his stubby tail, shaggy brown
and white coat, floppy ears,
but he’s not following Orion,
he’s chasing a star.
He’ll never catch it,
but the joy of the game
is eternal
as the stars.


Sun and Moon
In the High Desert
En la Selva
In The Garden of Venus
Brother Francis