Our final walk together -
you are leaving.
I don’t know it yet,
haven’t even thought
of the possibility.
You are with me,
and I am with you.
I am taken with you,
the light falling
across your forehead
- just so -
the first star we see,
the one upon which
we refuse to wish -
stars are treacherous,
always extinguishing
or falling to earth -
but we still remark upon
its seeming constancy,
its unswerving loyalty
to the night sky
or the rising half-moon
or the promise
of a new sunrise
or to us, two people
who are saying goodbye
without knowing it.