At the Barrier

The languages are hard to translate

as we stand at the barrier

We know house, leaf, bed

We have learned the names we give

each other’s children, how to call them

home out of the dark sky

lit up all night with falling stars

When your daughter says

you are leaving, she gives me this

small rose of cloth & wire

for luck & memory

I slice open the bread & melon

We speak our careful idiom

in which the tongues of sorrow

are replaced: salt, bread, water

Here are her sandals

Don’t tell me forever.

Listen, even the stars fall

at last home to each other