Half Man, Half Star

Birds greet dawn and an old horse
Of a poem shifts in my mind—

Shine star, who is not a star,
Who is Mars, bronze in the bronze

Light of an ash-hazed cliff dawn.
Strange, as I stand, more or less,

And sway a bit in the breeze
And in Earth’s grip—I know that

You are not part of this world,
This green dot seen from your dawn,

And I’m told you are a part
Of the same dent in space-time

Made by the real star, this sun
That lights you, your dawn, this dawn,

This world as seen in your dawn
Through the lens of a scrap toy

We sent on a plume of gas
To check you out, just for that.

But the first old poem was right
To say that you have no part,

And the next old poem was right
To mock that you are a part

Of the mind that notes you down,
A mind full of junk and nouns

Like words for mind, star, bird, horse.
Sun’s too bright. You fade in pines.