Vega Tomorrow

No easy way to be free.

No easy way down.

I pace a trail around 

every rosy fingered dawn,

every black currant crow dusk,

watching the tall grass flagellate

the back of the sky.

I am caught in the earth's precession 

aware of a constant 

slow oscillation; 

rooted to aching evergreen 

and dizzy with elliptic.

Time out of joint,

reaching for a remembered switch

that's never been there.

Don't you know?

You don't know

the half of me.

And the other half

is Polaris today, 

Vega tomorrow.