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John Cornwall

Star

You are a star in whose firmament love occurs.
Your Gauloises smell is like a mothers, the center
of heaven. And at night in the dark the moon approves
of your shadow.

The world has slipped into a clarity I could not
have imagined, a mirror out of which reflections
become sensible. And your smile empties itself
out of a darkness and into a light that has powers

of discovery and invention. Everything
has altered, the solid hand of habit stopped
and left. And nothing can erase these moments,
this special time that amasses brilliance;

there is simply too much to do, mending roads
that invite travel, rooms that shine and dazzle
eyes usually closed. And with an embrace
that would fit the world I follow you.

I can smile in this ridiculous heaven, it is home.