The Thousandth Sigh Poem by Janine Ecks

Saw a picture of you in full color.
Pastels lit your face -
Shifting, contorting, life of a thousand demons
Swirling beneath your countenance.
And I looked on in shock, awe, - what? Disgust? -
At that face I once loved
Which cannot now be spoken of
In the same phrase where 'love' is uttered.

What writhing agony in it! Oh!
My heart is pummeled till gore.
I feel the sinking of a thousand ships,
Destruction much too macabre to behold!
Here I weep on your behalf,
For you can weep no more.

And dutifully I walked away down the street
As if nothing was amiss,
Till the smell of a certain jasmine
In winter's full mourning bloom
Infiltrated my nostrils...
Sad jasmine,
The fragrance of a thousand violins.
In cacophonous symphony
They played a song for you.

So I sat here on this rock to think
Under this tree. Dear Ry, it seems
Your tempest has swept through and rendered it bare.

That shifting face...
I weep with your disgrace,
While those violins whine on
And the jasmine withers away.