Open the coming day to the table of contents.
The first chapter, “The Last Star,” begins
“All the fawn’s spots faded, except one.”
It seemed the robin would never stop singing,
if singing’s the word. More like
the scribbles of a child imitating cursive,
certain everything means something.
Does a mare remember being a foal
as she cares for her own, her first?
“Suddenly I found my neck
was long enough, and I could graze.”
Afterward she forgot the taste of milk, but she
kept the white star shining on her forehead.
Perhaps this day holds such promise
you turn first to the last page, to be sure.
The one you love most must still be alive,
or you’ll go no further.