Set up the chair.

Aluminum frame.

Brown and tan nylon weave.

Glancing blow from a child's toy.

His eyes say it has served as a weapon before.

Snap the chair closed.

Sweep Cassiopeia away.

No words.

Just quiet action.

Dart across the sky.

Tumble past the black holes and the supernovae.

Arrive where they see her light,

                                                           her spirit,

                                                                       her peace.

They see it.  And in their generous way

                                                                              They're grateful.

Copyright 2010 Michelle L. Coulter