Jan G. Otterstrom F.

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ORION

Winter chill of memory nips my nose
to imagine sagging eaves, overhung
stacked with snow, buried deep
in frosty tears wept, ice crystals sealed
the night, long and snug, waiting the thaw
colder sky stars sparkled, Spring still
not sung in the crackle of velvet darkness
swept black with awe, Orion, Al Jabbar
hunted low in the southern horizon
his belt of pearls: Mintaka, Alnilam, Alnitak
glittered, yet from my porch, his constellation
luminary tent of giants Betelgeuse, Rigel
Bellatrix, warming before their luminous nebula
of hot gases, now is directly overhead
vertical wonder of reverence, midst tropical
hardwoods, palms, psalms of jasmine breeze
and the whistle of the whippoorwill.




c) Jan G. Otterstrom F. 2/17/2012 Costa Rica