26 Nov 2019
(a poem about the pain of separation, when you don’t know when you will see them again)
Your eyes would remind me again
that I’d be devoid of the magic they cast upon me
for the next days and months that would come.
The chills of wintery breeze would shrink me
into an utterly helpless and vulnerable creature,
who has no power over the mighty Time and the changing Seasons.
And when the moment of parting would arrive,
your hands slipping away like soft stupid sand from mine,
I’d be broken from inside and probably from outside too
but you’d be gone with terrible trembling of rail tracks in a minute or so.
So now I decide,
tomorrow at the dawn of separation
when the Pain of Parting would be unbearable,
I’d stay home.
I’d sleep through that time,
with a prayer on my lips and a wish in my heart…
That I never wake up
to see the Dull Sun or the Ruthless Moon ever again.