the flood ran through three houses down my street,
and four on the next one, metres west from where i am standing now.
this was yesterday, and it has calmed already, the water,
what used to be angry oceans - they are now like skinny springtime streams.
what brought the water and what brought the storm?
it came so suddenly like it knew too many people were born on that day,
crashing these parties and these walls, and i remember yelling, begging you to tell us what you wished for.
you warned me to be patient, i know, and that must have been my fatal mistake.
i also know these words cannot mask what i feel now. i can no longer tell between remorse and regret.
but i can pretend anyway, neighbour,
because i would have loved to see you turn forty eight.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment