Night Walker

There is a place (believe me,

            she said) where if, if

                          you go beyond

the street lights, to the lane's end,

            then (and don't look back)

                        walk on...

(One flash could nix your night-sight,

            the spark of a car on the hill

                         a mile away

or a patio light's twitchy sensor

             shocking empty gardens

                        with fake day.)

Just walk, she told me once.  You'll see

             what owl-eyes, fox-eyes, know:

                        there is a place

behind the darkness. It's like coming home,

             she said, believe me. I hope

                          it was true. 

Look up. The height of it! More stars

           than anyone has seen. And once

                       small speck called you

among the millions. And you're spinning

             upwards (she said, the last time

                        we saw her) through

the brilliant dark, the depth, of space.