As time goes smoothly on
I am brought often to a sudden stop
by the way things
end
with so little fuss.
What may be drama for the thing concerned
is for the onlookers an unevent
merely a gap
a minus feature of the landscape;
its curtain call
a sound of one hand clapping
(mine).
It might be a tree, a bush, of many one,
or of friends, any one.
Business continues as usual,
schedules will be met
-- Am I the only one
who cannot forget?
(I, who regret
even the extinguished insect
you wash down the sink, leaving a gap in air) —
mourning may not be practical
but this mute-ability
leads only to a dull despair
Valedictions
© Copyright: David Lake, 2003
Свидетельство о публикации №103020700174
Свидетельство о публикации №103020700174
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