Sirius extends a beam to me.
I like to imagine it’s my mother,
reaching down for me, her eldest.
I want to raise my arm and grasp
her numinous hand, just to feel
our connection again, even if only
for an instant. Instead I cup my hands
together like a cracked bowl to let
starlight pool in my palms. But when
I look, there are only shadows there.
Would it be okay with you if I find more than shadows?