Stone to Stone
No bright star, and I not steadfast, lone,
Not leaning at the last, not in the least.
I watched the moon's white bullet as it shone
A rain of glitter flakes on grass, increased
The flat reflective face of glass in panes
Until no eye could see behind its silver
Rule. So sorrow, no news tonight, wanes
And waxes. Skies cloud over, cover, shiver.
Yet steadfast to this turn, I will still breathe-
As if ground's milky quartz rose overhead
And I could stretch my step from stone to stone.
As if that opened space showed Pleiades,
The sisters far away, dim lights, the dead,
Each breath a sun, a galaxy, then none.
Margaret Rabb
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