yes and no in your eyes

there are many small and great losses. a moment in the sun, under the sun. like salt before the immense rock-time. stars move on their way in smooth curves. asymptotically to their place. a shadowed land. much has passed. much yet will. by the side of the road, in a field, burnt -out cars rest. crumbling brown-ochre the colour of abandonment. joy and merriment, a thousand journeys..all is fallen now. pile image upon image-if you will. the dark mirror will still collect, darkly. the old descend before you. you, too, for some reason drift. so that they don't know? may the Lord have mercy.

now lights glow so dimly. brighter, later. you'll never know. to my house, and there withdraw myself. stand by the river. the stone bridge floats. to wait by water's edge, like many before. life's become a winter scene painting that looks at life. gaze inwardly, silently for myself. did you see me today, god? in time lilac flowers will come to grow by my grave. side by side, shadowing eachother, we shall lie. both of us, strangely, without name.

in the mirror is Sunday

always will be a summer day

the day with no night

or a number on skin

fate chanced upon by a 'yes' or a 'no'

not long, but it isn't anyway

determined by the interval: we mourn,

maybe, the brevities, as much as to say

form were the enemy-the length of form-

to hide from ourselves

that emptiness of content length couldn't fill

no matter how long it might be-forever if it were.

---eccliasticus, bronk-and a line from celan.