Loss
Remember how once we walked through an olive grove,
we heard no sound, not even our own footsteps.
Remember how once we stood in a sea warmed by a hot sun,
our weary feet soothed in warm shallows, our skin scorched.
I remember the pain and sorrow of your departure to foreign lands,
and cried for a future that could not be ours as the sun set alone.
Now the mirror reflects back the empty years, loss and decay,
the window no longer opens- it's latch rusted in place.
Shall I open my door? venture outside?
I cannot for my old coat hangs precariously on an ageing nail.
|