It is cold, windy and an unknown way,
The forlorn curtain sheets sway wildly.
My heart aches for your feel
In a closed world, thoughts are all.
I run from this empty, long, night
I search the strange street
For meaning in my pursuit
My dictionary tattered, decrepit
Cannot find your face in the passing crowd
My ephemeral chase so meaningless
My soul friend here is restlessness.
Yesterday, long yesterday,
I spent by this rimmed window
Trying to reflect away the Roman castle of my sorrow
Reams of home memories keep coming on.
Red discarded tiles stacked on Parkstrasse’s footpath,
Much like they keep them well by the home ¬hearth
Red roses on neighbour’s flower paths
Bright, scented but tired in neat slots
They sway in the retreat of a thought
As I walk from Westend to Ostend
My shoe breaks somewhere –
Shoe you had chosen in tender love
They like me, cannot bear this solitary trudge
And like you, they break but do not fuss and fudge
Tomorrow I shall have them mend
Love’s gifts are forever to tend.
Since I had none to speak, I went to the Church
Even God seemed to be forlorn in the lurch.