I saw us from where we stood.
Everything had already happened.
It was a ladder of sorrows.
It was all this distant space behind our eyes,
Tearing away remaining spirals of light
I saw us from where we stood,
Watching a sister in Pfarrkirche St. Mauritius
Brushing dust from a sunlit bench.
Here in a final image –
Pale storms came over the Pennine alps,
Making a single life seem real.
Spring continued,
Light was separating into all this void of space –
And our entangled worlds were failing.
It was a ladder of sorrows.
Everything had already happened,
As a sister brushed dust from a sunlit bench.