NEVER SO ALONE AS HERE
(in memory of my mother Ita)

A night
scattered with stars

each star
so clear

in its perfect
isolation

you feel as if you are
about to pluck it

from its position
examine it

put it
exactly back

watch as time & the world
come apart

(watch as neither match)  

each minute
like a bead of prayer

fumbled through fingers
in its litany of despair

a rosary of
hopelessness

the back of her hand
resting in the palm of mine

stupidly the thought
crossing my mind

“She made
this hand...”

And now she searches
for her dying

sees it reflected
in our faces

our grief
her mirror

each star
a tear

in the perfection
of its isolation

never so alone
as here

as now

the Milky Way
spilt across the sky.