We die, then nothing
Nothing, she said, holding my hands
falling like a sparrow
cold and already rock-like
we die, the way rhododendrons wilt
in late spring dusk
It can’t be, I tried to say
but her eyes snuffed my words.
It was raining
cold, slow drops beating
More than her words
those big distant eyes of hers
as if not looking at me, but through
at the Himalayas behind me
that, that touched
i tried to say again,
it can’t be, how can it be
Nothing.
She watched the rain, soft and steady
the ancient mountains
though rain-lost, were in her eyes
and the way she watched
I thought how many billion years
billion years of death
we had overcome
to be like this, like this:
holding our hands