Poem: Aster
A poem by Luisa A. Igloria
September flower, spiked white
wood or billowy lavender aster—
pearl crescents, monarchs, and
golden moths come to feed
as if worshipping where you cluster.
There is a first star, a morning and
evening star, a star for every event
in the zodiac; and there is one of sudden
or ruinous nature, one which falls out
of lucky alignment. A crossed star, dis-
possessed of favor or fortune. Tell
me, which one stood watch or
crowned me at birth; which one offered
its distant light like a godmother?