General   (General discussion, talk about anything.)

GONE


Whatever I won
is now lost.
And if she appeared,
one cold December night,
I would be struck dumb.

It will not happen-
and so my words will be heard.
I will talk about her
until the young trees
reach the window where the sun came in.

And what then?
I see only shadows
filling this familiar room.
Then,
I will lock the old door
for the last time-

it will be the end of the beginning:
the sun will be filtered
by memory and loss.
And only then,
will I say she has
gone...


Jarvo 2018