On the Ceiling, Stars Come Out
One can depend on astrodecor. Curtain the sun, moon, or sodium streetlight And it appears: Big Dipper, Aiming wryly at the polar-bear shelf, Taurus, thrusting madly toward the super hero cape, And that old Draco, writhing around The helium birthday balloon; Below the cornice molding Orion perpetually aspiring to appear. But this is just the "local universe," as they say. In a neighboring sky a ceiling cosmologist may posit The existence of constellations pivoting on our sun, By which parallel navigators of bedtime steer a story, In transit of "one last drink of water" and "lights out."