From the towering shadows of cloud

A flash of the evening star, a gap through

To the star above the vaulted sky: high so very high,

And faraway, high windows allot a view

Of pinpricks in the blackness. Stars await 

Their conversion to black holes of dense

Compact immensity. Swallow you whole they could 

Spit you out before you were born. Still water

Reflects the stars. Contains them in a glistening cul-de-sac

Of time. Stars waiting to be seen are open to suggestion.

And there is a path through the third dimension of air

To a place and a time when I'm no longer there.

A place and time that rhymes with fate

Never ever to be late, for one's own funeral.