Horns locked into blue air, head posed to tear

a patch of forest out of its repose,

this form was hurled down by Capricorn

to match a remembered self.

Earth reshaped what it saw—fire gods hardened

the surface to a dark shine, spirits of the woods

added their whim of tree stump and branch.

Butting faint starlight above the corridor

of trees, now Capricorn barely knows

its analogue whose glance seems to admonish us,

and like a divinity looks heavenward—

we turn our backs on the earth

that shaped us, the sky of our minds

lighting the forest.

—Colette Inez