A Broken Heart in Sand

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There are times when starlight
goes missing from the sky,
the beaver returns to its den alone,
or a heart perseveres, one part torn off.
It is like this today as you fly off
to important missions in the world.
Does anyone know what they carry
on these trips? What they leave behind?
I cannot know what goes in your bag,
nor the brilliance your soul will shine forth;
I lie here in the sand, wondering...
a broken clam shell discarded by the hungry animal.
Some truth needs to be said,
but I don't know what it is.
The root of my being is reeds in the lake bottom;
from here I shall not be moved.
Oh... The starlight, the beaver, and that
broken heart? They will find their place.
My feet remain in the lake bottom,
standing here, waiting for you.
Anthony Signorelli