11

Scan the sky. Is no constellation named “Horseman”?

For this is strangely imprinted in us:

this earthly pride. And another

who spurs and reins it and whom it bears.

Isn’t it thus, pursued and then broken in,

this sinewy nature of our being?

Path and pivot. At a touch: understanding.

New distances. And the two are one.

But are they? Or does neither want

the path they trace together? Table and trough

ineffably divide them from the start.

Even the starry union can deceive.

Yet for now let’s allow ourselves

to believe in the figure. That suffices.