I hear the rustle of dry leaves
I feel the ruined bones
I see swirling reds, blues, greens
Fading like water colors on wet paper
I look for corners folded over
Of pages in the books you once read
There are no notes in the margins
No words underlined to help me
Remember what was lost
Once you told me you could not
Think about me without crying
I never understood what you meant
Did I fail to become your dream?
Did you refuse to become mine?
Is that what you couldn't tell me?
Is that why you left?
June 2017
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A heartfelt poem, well written.
Thank you Make Shift. I like the name you’ve chosen.
Thank you. I look forward to reading yours as well, Kaldorei. That's an interesting name. What does it mean?