on 2026-08-13, Robin wrote: "Tonight is the peak of the Perseid meteor shower. 56 years ago, at the age of 16, I stayed out all night with another boy of the same age, counting shooting stars. For me, it was a connection poised on the threshold of my self-awareness as a gay man.

Two years later, Clyde was struck and killed by a car, as he was coming home from his girlfriend's house. I later wrote this poem in memory of that night gazing at the heavens.

shooting stars

for Clyde, in answer to your letter
yes I do remember
the night we counted shooting stars
we left the others drinking on the beach
and making out in pickup trucks
the smoke from burning tires stained
the stars above Baie Sainte-Marie

we walked into the August night
to read the golden riddle of the stars
while all the village lay
not dreaming that the sky was raining light
until upon the tide of dawn
we drifted home to sleep

we who kept the vigil saw the sign
but did not understand it
although we saw his flaming arrows
falling through the air
we did not see the god of love arrive
on other wings than we expected

I was not with you when he showed himself to you
you stepped into light on Saint Valentine's Day
alone on the dark side of the year
did you shine for a moment
as you fell through the headlights
bright in the act of destruction?

ten years too late I cannot warn you
that the god of love comes armed

I always watch for shooting stars
they fall from heaven like the tears of Saint Sebastian
as the sky
pierced by stars
bleeds light