Hesperus

My four-year-old daughter handed me a card.

To Daddy written on the front

and inside a rough field

of  five-pointed lights, and the words

You’re my favorite Daddy in the stars.

In this western night we all light the sky

like Vega, Deneb, Altair, Albireo,

the Summer Triangle,

Cygnus the Swan, our hair

tangled with wood and gravel,

our eyes like vacant docks

that beckon every boat.

Tell me about the word

stars, I said.

Oh, she said. Sorry.

I didn’t know

how to spell world.