In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

bereft, mourning 27 Solving an Astronomy Problem Lise Menn It’s certain, as I had always suspected: You were my sun and moon and stars; Not one of them rises anymore. So then, what is that yellow light that heats my skin And which occasionally warms me for a moment? It must be someone else’s sun that I can see. It must be someone else’s moon that changes shape. And those must be their stars: faint, blinking, useless. ...

Share