Thought Wheel

More of a question mark
Than a family group,
The Pleiades hang high

In the September sky.
What will become of this
Little geography

Clumped underneath these stars?
Knowing better, you want
To run your thoughts along

A ladder of events
As easily as up
And down these cliff faces

In this touristy town,
As if what happens next
Could be scrolled over, zoomed,

Scrutinized all angles,
Although it’s nothing more
Than your own projection

Of what little you know
Of what’s happened so far,
More like a question mark.