I show her
the stars.
'Are they ours? '
she whispers.
'Only if we name them! '
I answer
as the Universe
undresses itself
before us.
I name the stars
for her
making up names
for the stars I don't know
...the names of.
'This one is yours...it's a Tilly star! '
I show her how
to hold it
betweeen forefinger
& thumb
gently
gently
I tell her what
constellations are.
Next night
the moon finds her
arranging her collections
of pebbles shells & stones
(taken from the mouth of rivers
taken from the sides of seas 0
adopting
a star's position
mimicking each
constellation.
'I want to be able
to see them
even when
I can't see them! '
All that sunny Sunday
her constellation of shell & stone
shone brightly
in the noon day sun.
this is so beautiful... i think it's about a little girl, right? or it could have been about a woman, it doesn't really make a difference....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The world, the mind, the very heart of Miss Tilly is conquered once again, and beautifully! ! Love IT, and HER!