Metamorphosed

Eyeballin the sky...  
 
at the soul hour on coal power...
after the flames have gone to bed  
to let me watch the Dog star  
nipping at Orion's heels.  
 
Polaris still crowned the neighbor's conifer,  
amid the Ursine frolic.  
 
The Pleiadean patch was straight up  
and I straight up imagined  
       the seven daughters of Atlas...  
 
430 light years away.  
 
Then I vowed to learn all their names!  
 
And the Great Nebula in Orion  
raged beneath his triad belt  
as bright as that nymphean huddle.  
 
Just what was Orion hunting anyway?  
 
I bid them all the best of luck;  
took one last look at the fading embers...  
 
and followed the flames to Ovidian slumber.