You were beside me. You were the mountain blocking half a sky full of stars. I was small in the depth of your shadow, watching black water and glittering boats. Everyone sat on blankets on grass, drinking and eating, talking and waiting. I played, then slept, until your hand stirred me. I woke among strangers all staring up. High overhead, faint, among whispers, floated a figure with long glowing hair. You called it by name. Everyone watched it. I watched you and mother, the way your cheeks shone. Once in a lifetime, you said, soft as breathing, speaking to no one. I loved you both then. I saw mother, crying, the way her hand glowed through darkness toward the ghost of your hand. Now I am grown. You've gone to earth. I have my own child, and the comet we saw is just starting back from a distance much deeper than I could have guessed as a boy in the gathering dew. ----William Pitt Root --

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