Thursday, April 15, 2010
Till then my windows ache
Matilde, where are you? Down there I noticed,
under my necktie and just above the heart,
a certain pang of grief between the ribs,
you were gone that quickly.
I needed the light of your energy,
I looked around, devouring hope.
I watched the void without you that is like a house,
nothing left but tragic windows.
Out of sheer taciturnity the ceiling listens
to the fall of the ancient leafless rain,
to feathers, to whatever the night imprisoned:
so I wait for you like a lonely house
till you will see me again and live in me.
Till then my windows ache.
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- Sit. Feast on your life.
- Why you cannot lie to an aphasiac
- may my heart always be open to little birds
- The space for hypocrisy
- Till then my windows ache
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- The Right Hemisphere
- Once in a Poem
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- since feeling is first
- when hair falls off and eyes blur
- somewhere i have never travelled
- In spite of everything
- Clenched Soul
- Every Day You Play
- Tonight I Can Write
- To repay vileness with doves...
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- I do not love you as if you were brine-rose, topaz
- The Summer Day
- Road Song
- Positive news. Happy Stories. Unsung Heroes.
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- Rough Road
- Actions result in other actions
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- The youngest
- Once upon a time in Rajasthan
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- The old storybook
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