She's millions of miles away now, her wings stretched wide embracing the galaxy my gypsy orb, my earth in microcosm. I feathered our nest, but all my warbling cannot bring her back. What is this evolution that divorces white from yolk? Circles concentric, ranged beyond the space now come between us like their Dyson shell, I turn inward, wanting, waiting my inevitable burn up by the sun that she outgrew and left behind. (originally appeared in Mindflights, 2009)