Night woke our father:
Off we went to it,
Wandering silvered streets and lawns
To find Orion’s belt
Or magic Dippers
Pouring out heaven’s gold and silver
Forever.
He shied away from all astronomy:
Let no one furl the sails of wonder;
He traced the stars our hearts already saw:
The giant Archer drew his bow
To guard our little house on Sidney Street.
Our father would be giving us the stars
Forever.
This poem is from the Winter 2018 issue of Modern Age.
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Founded in 1957 by Russell Kirk and Henry Regnery, Modern Age is a journal of conservative thought and a magazine devoted to culture, history, philosophy, and the ideas behind the great currents of modern life. Follow us on X @ModAgeJournal
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