Virgo in the ascendant,
Saturn in decline,
A retrograding antidote,
A calculated rhyme;
Overtones of melancholy,
Undertones of mirth,
A surfeit of misfortune,
Of musery a dearth
Faithless Fortune taps her foot,
While plotting my demise,
A rhythm most unruly,
A metaphor unwise;
In minutes and in seconds,
She wreaks havoc on my pen,
A glib faux pas, no coup de grâce...
And so I start again.
§
My zodiacal tendencies,
Triumphant in their prime,
Fade to skepticism
As life spins on a dime.
Writing in the ‘off’ season.
‘I don’t believe in astrology; I’m a Sagittarius and we’re skeptical.’
- Arthur C. Clarke