The star man, mourning, floats among the stars

firmly, the farms beneath his feet.

How long it takes for me to climb into grief!

Fifty years old, and still held in the dark,

in the unfinished, the hopeful, what longs for solution.

As that girl there, who explains things, combing

her hair … the face seems alert, the body

still drifting through the ponderous farms of ocean.