From a Great Height
In her eyes
I am the wise,
the one who knows
who put the moon inside the sky,
but does not tell. She thinks I keep
a secret when I say I do not know.
Some things I know. I have been told
one does not brace for sudden falls.
When her day comes to take
this throne from under me, I wish,
upon a little star
that it might be
a gentle sort of fall,
and that she'll recognize me there
without the crown at all.