In the year after the reign of the Good Rex Felicis
a comet danced from constellation to constellation
in the sky above his grave.

I watched from a seat in the Royal Garden,
the Royal Consort on my lap,
and we remembered our fallen hero and
the way that he danced
from room to room and day to day.

The tendency in this culture is to make
a big thing about omens such is this one, but
I think it was just a small thing.

A private thing.

Between every creature who witnessed the shimmering
fire in the sky and their own memories.

Thus we sat up late last night
gazing upward,
eyes warm with tears in the chilly Spring air,
glad for the shared comfort
of each other
the past

and the small but important glisten in the night above our heads.

JD Frey‑‑March 26, 1996  


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