In the daft heaven of the planetarium,

            stars and galaxies streaked away from us

                        expanding in multiples of ten

                                    ad infinitum,

while a soothing, booming voice

            spoke of space and wonder, until our minds

                        grew dull from numbers and din

                                    and brilliant distraction.

Outside the museum were bare trees

            in wintry light, squirrels with plump cheeks,

                        pale shadows of branches

                                    on brittle snow,

and she was quiet. I loved her

            infolding like this, and we walked crunching

                        over the snow-paths, greeting the rude

                                    pinches of wind.

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