Coperni us and His Star Sti k

Poetry 6

Have you ever wondered? Behind bars under stars, under indigo and moon?

Head back, tilt left in symphony— with the earth?—perhaps once, before The Epiphany: heliocentricity.

We are not what we thought we are light after death, are not flesh, are not bone, we have grown up among things we can name but can’t explain.

The sun—first a birth, then a sin, a crime born of fear (we are not the center of all things).

But alas! A triumph.