I.
Is fate always this
merciless, marvelous
are the stars that stretch across the sky like
dewdrops, falling as if dauntless
blind and
indifferent
surrendering itself to the fragile gossamer strands
the spider’s web, a facile yet
temperamental
safety net
the better choice,
I tilt my chin to the light
my cheeks coated in silver
and salute each flickering victim.

II.
Why the dime waited for her, I
do not understand, although my fingertips bear not only the blur of years past but the tragedy
merely a moment ago, it granted me nearly a lifetime to
slide my thumb along its dull rim
before permitting it to slip away
from my weak grasp and
fall
its silent death muffled by the damp earth and
each blade of grass, tips alit from the yellow porch light,
patiently waiting to be found by
newer, smaller hands and
hair ribbons
happily parting in her
presence.

III.
I suppose it worked out well, in the end
the finding was easy, for wishing and
hoping and
praying
long nights and still lashes
prayers silently sliding and cascading
down a jaw that quivers under
burdens, carried prayers
far and up and away
And maybe I have no one to
thank at all
But every night, I would whisper to an empty room
if I waited long enough
it would find me.