No objection, no sound either Poem by Jan Baeke

I saw spring come and wondered
how we should embark on this
new, ever-recurring time.

I played a song that had fallen between us
and broke because we were arguing fiercely.

The sun had come back and the neighbours
were puffing away through the music.
Enough wind to blow a life clean.

I washed the clothes
that you'll never wear again.

I saw you off, said goodbye to you
explained to you that the flowers and the visits
wanted to mean everything.
You made no objection, no sound either.

I went home to put it all in place
and to wait and see what the chairs and the bed
and the empty space in your coat
want to mean.

Translation: 2015, Judith Wilkinson