Sunday 10 January 2010

Mourning Light

Light played lambent circles on the stream,
That day, late May,
When the weak sun witnessed you walking
With me, for the last time,
And it's impossible now,
To forget your fear,
And your watery eyes
As we talked about time,
And how it quickens with age
Robbing you of everything faster and faster,
But memory, like light
Playing lambent circles on the stream.

And we once walked on that stream too,
Almost as frozen as its waters were
And it seems strange to recall the memory,
Trapped like kelp in the ice
Perfect, but as still and as cold,
As you were the last time I saw you.

And although you could never believe it
Somewhere you’re warm, and beautiful again,
Capable of casting your light on the water,
Wherever I walk without you.

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