Caught between you and your memory
And now caught on the other side
of what once was a threshold
you slip now from seen and unseen,
in and out of focus,
here and then not.
Like the long heavy closed eyed yawn,
now here and now gone.
You, always there,
never coming or going,
standing still but separate
the both of you
not facing each other
not wanting to connect any longer.
You, old and new,
Did you one night,
with Lorca’s dying Orange Tree,
cut the shade you used to cast?
No more in life if no more with her?
Is that the end you choose for you?
To welcome interruptions
but never anyone home,
To welcome interruptions
but never anyone home?
There you stand ready and waiting,
and yet I walk through you
and through you, and through you.
——————–
Grown apart
older now
both have bled
both are rusty,
one seems closed off.
One seems empty.
Both led home,
Now they stand apart like
grandparents
but not quite
themselves.
Michael Vitaly Sazonov 