Starlight

         ~for Kay Koval

               (1921 - 2021)

i

What is starlight

and why did you

leave home

so often

to chase it?

Through rain,

wind, and snow

you left the comfort

of your television’s

blue glow

to rendezvous

with greater lights

that deigned to 

reach down to you

knowing you knew

just how

to reach up

for them.

How dear you were

to believe in there

being such a thing

as everlasting light

as you became 

a collector of immortal

autographs, secretly 

storing them away

like fireflies in a jar.

Assisted by

the disguise 

of the everyday,

you shuttered from

star to star

unobtrusively

cultivating your own

sunny presence 

beneath

a pair of glasses

as purposeful

as Clark Kent

hiding his

super powers.

On hearing that Venus

would soon be

in conjunction

with Mars, you plotted

your amiable ambush,

yet again

donning a scarf

and glasses

unashamed of your

inquisitiveness about 

immortality and

what made it tick,

only to learn

it had nothing

to do with time

and everything 

to do with

leaving one’s

mark upon it. 

How did you know

so instinctively

that everything and 

everyone

leaves behind

a signature 

of longing?

Even a stone

yearns to become

transparent

in order to

share the

light inside 

itself.

ii

Walking into your funeral

unprepared for

tears and a journey,

yet humbly anticipating

a lesson in

mortality, 

I approached your

last bed afraid

to see you

laid bare from

the ravages of time

as well as 

a life well lived,

while keeping my

inner orphan,

(a beginning we shared)

in check, that I might

recognize my

own future 

in your 

sole departure;

a puzzle piece

lost forever,

leaving us all

incomplete.

Little did I know

that what I was 

to see

would change me

forever, for

laying there

before me was

a glowing Goddess

of beauty and

elegance, 

radiating

a singular glory,

every inch

a star.

10/11/21