(after Dorothy Parker)
Jacarandas flower in the street,
and maybe for you my feelings did not matter
while the trees’ scent hangs pervasive and sweet
my life is broke as if our love does shatter.
Maybe our separation is a blessing
and I wipe the tears away,
while it feels as if all meaning is missing
and the sun is bright at the beginning of day.
Outside birds in those trees are whistling
and there’s tightness in my breast
from our painful parting
and in my own city I feel like a guest
that has overstayed his welcome
while I am lost without a home.
[Reference: Threnody by Dorothy Parker.]
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