Can it be that a column never falls
and a heart never ceases to beat for another?
That a bubble of air never bursts
and a smile never begins to depart?
Gone I am from the days I have known
and from those who once gave me food.
A life of one’s own too real to be good.
A little everyday
everyday a little
of you and of me on a page, in a cloud
in the rubble of my neighbourhood
in the rules for us to follow or to break
in the music of your dreams
and the infinite silence of your thoughts.
I never knew of a life so sad
nor of such pain gathered in the body of a child.
I never knew of so much violence hidden in so deep a love
of a mother, of a lover
nor of such loyalty as in a dog’s gesture
of such absence in a empty bed
or of such comfort in the light touch of a cat.
watercolour by yzagor