After Years

 

Today, from a distance, I saw you

walking away, and without a sound

the glittering face of a glacier

slid into the sea.  An ancient oak

fell in the Cumberlands, holding only

a handful of leaves, and an old woman

scattering corn to her chickens looked up

for an instant.  At the other side

of the galaxy, a star thirty-five times

the size of our own sun exploded

and vanished, leaving a small green spot

on the astronomer’s retina

as he stood in the great open dome

of my heart with no one to tell.

 

                        Ted Kooser