We dressed and went outside, my sister and me, so we could go watch the moon lie across the belly of the sun. And she held me close; she knew I freaked out in the dark. But I remained composed this time. Though I thought it was the end. My ideas of the cosmos were not quite Copernican. All I knew was mashed potatoes, Crayolas and dolls. So, here, among the red leaves of a Massachusetts fall, I was resigned. In dark days, scrunching up my wings until brilliant rays came in from the strangest place. And this light crept in from the margins fully dressed, and it s singing the songs we knew best. I never knew that she smoked, but I assumed it made her happy. I hung my head down low and moved in close to smell its stink hang on the chilled air. I loved you then; I wish I had told you, I wish I had said that I wasn t scared at your side. And I find it strange that in the face of dying, it s small things that hold their shape and qualify my presence here amongst you five, who have taken up the burden of legitimizing my time in this life. Chorus. Rose, you were right: there s nothing present in the dark that isn t in the light.