I Was Not Immune. Poem by Driss Ezzireg

The woods were soft green
The sun reddish moon
The moon not yet born
The owl still, forlorn.
And I was not immune.

I knew how diamond dew
Could alter your view
Could wake your senses
Guard off your fences.
And I was not immune.

The house in silence.
The heart in absence.
Golden age past old
Old age done and sold.
And I was not immune.

Back bent and shoulders bowed
Face wrinkled and eyes circled
Mouth hollow, limbs weakened
Soul adrift, mind blinded
And I was not immune.

I was not immune
Against
Sun and moon,
Dawn and dew,
Life and death,
Love and you.