a surge of grief washes my senses,
seeming to ride the dim,
blue, evening light, and
suddenly i realise, that
this moment will soon be over -
never to be replayed,
that this life will soon be over -
always to be forgotten,
and that which i am, will fade -
dissipate -
end.
caught forever, light is frozen on my eye, a picture of you
arms stretched, evening light tracing your pink flesh,
tracing your face, and
reflecting back at my own eyes
so that i may construct you
experience you internally
(for that is all we ever know) .
the very same light that washes your body, also
washes my mind
yet, forever and always, we are separated
by the width of a single electron.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great ending to a great poem... well done, Christopher! Brian