For a moment the ticking time stopped
of course we lived, but yesterday
became tomorrow reflected in today.
The plaintive ooh...oooh dove cried for hours
a background, repetitive, reliable soft sound
nothing wrong with omitting a day.
Sweltering sun, shadows green and black
nothing special, just ooh...oooh. Oh that dove
crying for a mate, lost yesterday, not even there tomorrow.
I killed a mosquito; will he be missed?
Will another mosquito cry for him, ashamed wearing sunglasses?
Mosquito-tears, what do they look like?
His mother now, no more his wife. A fleeting kiss in public
not allowed. "Aw Mom no! What will they think?"
A sigh in the sun. It's time to allow the clock to tick.
Marjon van Bruggen
May 2018
|
Author Notes
Carlo was very weak by May 2018. He slept a lot, which gave me time to sit in the sun for a while during the day. Never very long, because when he woke up and did not see me, he panicked.
|
|
