A New Zodiac

We do not know why
some galaxies spiral
like the fur around the eye
of the frozen hare
forever leaping below the ice pond.
Beneath that circle
reflecting sky,
mirror of his silver eye,
he waits until the spring rains come,
with their long styluses
stenciling o's again
over and over,
releasing him, bit by bit,
for the summer fish.
He is born again
under the sign
of earth rising.