This day, a symbol, a turning of the path,
is more, an aging, a dimming of the light.
So easy at the dark time of the year,
when nature sleeps and the stars weigh down
with such heavy, insupportable glitter,
to feel the end in the endlessness,
the slipping from warm closeness
into the cold nothingness beyond.
She gives me a card, the child, on this day,
a message of special words
that bring the sun a little closer,
the spring a little nearer.
‘We could be heroes’
and this is the day.