Our absence Poem by Mark Boog

Our absence was apparent
from the overgrown shrubs
from the grass that needed mowing,
from the birds, the clouds, the gaps.

Not speaking until it becomes
deliberate silence, a disappearance,
something that's difficult
to resent. The overcast sky:

us. Search parties have been called off,
dogs called back, news reports
forgotten. Don't move, that just
makes circles in the pool of silence.

Translation: 2008, Willem Groenewegen