Anon: by Adina Richman

(For my first reader, and the one who matters the most)

 

I think, these days, more often

Of impending impermanency

How edges begin to soften

Of icebergs reclaimed by the sea

 

One day I’ll look around, anon

Not recognizing what I see

I’ll look for you, but you’ll be gone

Without you, I can’t find me

 

I worry then about that time

When we both disappear

Without the wind is there a chime

Once you are far and I’m left here?

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copyright 2015 Adina Richman, all rights reserved

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