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Astronomy 266 Wicked and lovely, the Lady of Night descends upon the whispery Astronomer trapped in steely branches like a silky shaken cat. Her constellation lips and retrograde eyes moisten as she gathers her thoughts and readies her speech: Sow a row of sorrow seed; white narcissus grows Travel to the zenith; let ecliptic angles fade Flick'ring beauties slowly shift; join their soft parade Taken aback, the wide-eyed Astronomer reaches to his side to find a twig of burning gold. He grabs and thrusts the hellish tool into the sky's folds and whimpers as the dust of his footsteps masks the Lady's solemn song: Drop your foolish golden spear; grasp my stellar sword Ramble on, you balky cat; no longer be afraid Swing your mystic knowledge: my cuspent Crescent Blade And so the weary vagrant Astronomer shuffles through the peristyle rows and watches the Lady of Night fall into emerald blue and wooly clouds. He shuffles on, and fore the noon, the zenith is his and haloes the semi-sigmoid crest. 2 Comments. |
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