Speed Of

Standard



She’s buried in the snow 

of a machine that floats

over her abdomen

revelation as frozen pictures

a Hubble Deep Field view

liver nebula

her native kidneys

a drift of distant stars long dead 

their light only now perceived

Was it better when we mistook

every bright spot in the black sky 

as a promise 

back before we understood

their glow most often signifies

softly whispered farewells

March 2015

Julie Ayers

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