February
hanging awkwardly between
winter and spring
undecided, hesitant
and there's me
sitting in this
chair
writing this poem
to you
as if you could read it
as if it could be that simple.
Yesterday
I felt so sad,
so bereft,
and the edges of the
hole in my soul burned
as fiercely as if the
sky was on fire.
Sometimes I look at
a photograph or
think of you
and I wonder
how it is
that you died,
how it is
that I am still here,
how I am still breathing.
Then I remember the
strength
inside me,
and I remind myself
that this strength is
you.
7th February 2011.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem