"Naming The Stars" by Joyce Sutphen

[cinaed]

This present tragedy will eventually

turn into myth, and in the mist

of that later telling the bell tolling

now will be a symbol, or, at least,

a sign of something long since lost.

 

This will be another one of those

loose changes, the rearrangement of

hearts, just parts of old lives

patched together, gathered into

a dim constellation, small consolation.

 

Look, we will say, you can almost see

the outline there: her fingertips

touching his, the faint fusion

of two bodies breaking into light.