Seeing the Stars

When the night's very still, a tender peace
Broods over my darkness; I lift my eyes
To see the skies; I'd witness your release
of doubts and speculations, like your sighs:
At least the echo of them, which soon tease
Rare thoughts from me of love and lust and life;
This year has taught me nothing - memories
Are dominant for any widowed wife,
Who finds her spouse, one day, was blown away,
Leaving no more than careless breaths of air;
I lift my eyes and observe stars betray
The night, its embassy and all that's fair
In love and war and grief, that breeds a tear:
The lonely recognition of this year.