(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?
copyright 2015 Adina Richman, all rights reserved
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