A wreath for Kaiti
I knew my friend was sad,
that there was much she left unsaid,
I saw it in her eyes -
the shadows, flickering
inside her head.
She asked me, when her lover died,
to spend that night close by her side,
because she feared to be alone
with memories of love betrayed.
She asked me then to never leave -
death was an empty room, she said -
but I declined, because I had
another funeral to attend.
I wasn't with her at the end,
to comfort her, to clasp her hand;
I lacked the skill to braid a wreath
for Kaiti, who befriended me.
Strangers told me of her fate -
her lover called, she could not wait.
I hope they opened heaven's gate
for melancholy, beauty, Kaiti.
i.m. Kaiti Kleitsaki, Athens 1999
I know my friend is dead...
© Copyright: Jena Woodhouse, 2003
Свидетельство о публикации №103122600323
Свидетельство о публикации №103122600323
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