From a Great Height

In her eyes I am the wise,
the one who knows
who put the moon
inside the sky
but does not tell.

She thinks I keep a secret
when I say
I do not know.
Some things I know.
I have been told

one does not brace
for sudden falls.
When her day comes
to rip this throne
from under me,

I wish upon a star
that it might be
a gentle falling down,
that she might recognize
her mom without the crown.