Thread: Summer (Sagittarius)

Summer (Sagittarius)
rough draft of something

Beneath the starlight, weary and withdrawn,
My sister comes to tells me how this Sagittarian dawn
is just the sun switching its sickle for a sythe
in the July twilight
and, taking my hand, she leads me
to the place where we can see
the sowing of vanilla and rhy upon
the maudlin horizon.
She tells me: "This is where poets become fishermen
casting for names from the asterisms
just to anchor their dreams and memories
in the incessant current of history."

Upon waking, she disappears into a plume of parchment
that spins into soil beneath my bereft hands
and, within the articulate winds of the morning,
I wonder if she also feels the same longing.

Beneath the rose petal furrows of the evening
my sister comes to me from the constellations
I harvested in her rippling shadow
that veiled these years like a breath upon a window.
Stepping down from these lines
she replaces my sickle for a sythe
and leads me towards the distant fires
of a summer Sagittarian nature.
She tells me: "A poet is a fisherman
casting for names from random asterisms
just to keep their past breathing
above the incessant current of history."

Upon waking, she disappears into a plume of parchment
that spins into soil beneath my bereft hands
and, within the desolate winds of the morning,
I wonder if she also feels the same longing.

Can't say I understand this, but it is beautiful

Some helpful info for those who don't know (i didn't) : Sickle and scythe are effectively the same thing, but the sickle is a one handed tool and a scythe is a two handed tool. They are both used for harvesting wheat and cutting grass. Also, of course, the scythe is associated with death. Unrelated here but still interesting, the hammer and the sickle is a symbol used to represent communism.
Asterism is another word for a pattern of stars. Can be part of an official constellation or not.

Sad but very good. I like the repetition. It fit extremely well with your theme. I don't really have much to add. I didn't understand using "that spins into soil beneath my bereft hands" in the second stanza. Wouldn't another line, setting it apart from the fourth stanza, clarify your point?

Anyway, fantastic poem!