Laura Kasischke

Space, between humans & gods

The day
en route to darkness. The guillotine
on the way to the neck. The train
to nudity. The bus
to being alone. The main-and-mast
and the thousand oars, the
thousand hands.

And the ship sailing on
toward the glory and the gone.

And you, too, my beautiful one, having
outgrown another
pair of shoes
tossing them into the box
we’ve named Goodwill.

And then the donkey ride to Bethlehem.
The long slow process of boarding the plane.
And my father
ringing the bell for the nurse
in the night, and then

not even the bell. Ringing

the quiet. Waiting
in the silence

as she travels toward him across it

wearing her white.