Andromeda Through Vulpecula

Step outside, you'll feel a calm -
no wind has whistled through
these houses in a week.
When all this worn-out world is asleep
I take a ride to Aquila or Horologium...
metaphorically, so to speak.

The old year washes away
with the worn and withered leaves
that keep falling from that tree.
The beaten laugh as the desperate flee:
I take a ride to Perseus and Tucana...
metaphorically, so to speak.

So bring the brand New Year in
and sweep away this swill of swindlers,
to the wildly whipping wind,
who still lie in tongues from Latin to Greek.
I'll just ride from Andromeda through Vulpecula...
metaphorically, so to speak.