The urn contains the dust of you.
When we first married, you taught me
we were created in the death of stars
So strange that the carbon coursing
through the molecules of us
were created from the dust of galaxies
Through your intrepid telescope
you showed me the primordial collapse
of ancient giants. Supernova. Husband
Our luminous origins
I witnessed your withering up close
unmediated by lenses or light-years.
No radiant explosion, just the slow hulling
of your husk. The decay of carbon
Your name casually wiped
from the dementia board ward
Yet, you taught me the stellar symmetries
of collapse and recreation. Through destruction
we re-become. Dust to dust
Soon I will scatter you back into the universe
Stardust again
