I am a constellation: points of connection between people, magic, landscape– even the exceptionally fat and surprisingly dead star-nosed mole I encountered while on a walk (and also whatever took it for a snack or memento of earth and velvet before I passed that way again).
I am the anger and the disappointment in my own soul, and in my friend’s. I am also the confusion, the fearful longing in yet another’s.
But I draw the lines. I squint and tilt my head and look to see what reveals itself to me: what points of light shine brightest? What, like the ancestors, do I choose to see in this dark sky?
Someday I’ll fall to the cold, to the season of death, whenever it comes for me. I can do my best to find beauty above and below– and within– and to meet my faithful friend wearing my best velvet coat.