(Aug. 25, 2006)

When Venetia Burney first whispered that name

into her grandfather’s ear, you ceased to be

a faint albedo on photographic plates

on the furthest shoulder of our galaxy.

You were thenceforth Star of the King of the Dead,

Lord of Tartarus and its portentous rivers,

the ninth planet– destined to be neglected

by Gustav Holst and silver-winged voyagers.

More cryptic than Ganymede or Callisto,

you beguiled us with your scale and your distance,

master of the Eighth House and of Scorpio

(till The Epsom Comet cleared Venetia’s fence

and left your name swirling in her morning tea,

dissolved by earthly gavel and committee).