The Night Watch of Orion

No, it is not one, not any
Of the many patterns
(Hunter, Spider) we've named
It, not a nameable, not an it

At all, but legion, an infinity
Of immeasurable distinctions
Infinitesimally approximated
And atomized by calculus.

It's a myth not even one myth,
A collection, not even
The same avec meme, a name
Among names, meaning

Whatever may be meaningless.
I see it rise in fall, fall in spring
Of one hemisphere, then turn
On its head in the other, stand

On shoulders, bow in hand
To my eyes, above the mother
Land of all of us as us, damned
Namers and ropers of random

Patterns into human stories,
Of this hunter seen in the stars,
Of this great spider made of stars,
This animal, this monster in the dark.