Stardust

Once by a pond I watched cedar waxwings

swoop and stall, snatching insects.  I’d never seen

so many before in one place.  Their dark masks.

Their yellow-dipped tails.  Later, evening.

Once in a meadow I lost my silver rosary.

A small one with a clasp, the kind a girl might wear.

But it wasn’t hard to find, the way it glittered

later in the grass like a string of tiny pearls.

Once at a funeral an old man slowly rose

and belted out Stardust.  Teary-eyed.  Quavering.

Oh memories of love!  The purple dust of twilight

steals across the meadows of our hearts!

I really wasn’t expecting this.  But after a while

I realized how beautiful life is, and sad.

Nothing is ever lost.

It’s always just somewhere else.

From The Next Thing Always Belongs

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