A furnished room beyond the stinging of
The sea, reached by a gravel road in which
Puddles of rain stare up with clouded eyes:
The photographs of other lives than ours;
The scattered evidence of your so brief
Possession, daffodils fading in a vase.
Our kisses here as they have always been,
Half sensual, half sacred, bringing like
A scent our years together, crowds of ghosts.
And then among the thousand thoughts of parting
The kisses grow perfunctory; the years
Are waved away by your retreating arm.
And now I am alone. I am once more
The far-off boy without a memory,
Wandering with an empty deadened self.
Suddenly under my feet there is the small
Body of a bird, startling against the gravel.
I see its tight shut eye, a trace of moisture.
And ruffling its gentle breast the wind, its beak
Sharpened by death: and I am yours again,
Hurt beyond hurting, never to forget.
Ładne.