May I Have This?

May I Have This?

When Saturn comes back around

you'll be almost 30 years older

and all will be forgiven,

the razor's shining edge

dancing rings of ice:

resplendent, fractal, chaotic.

When he returns,

the holly may have slipped

over a regal eye or two,

burst limits may have yielded

a bright dispersal,

and pale rings may shiver ghosts

into a spangled night.

But the archetype of glory

is on every dance card,

two times on some,

with those tiny pencils on

their white light strings;

he still knows the score

and how the game is played;

celestial bodies queue up

to swirl and pirouette.