A Melancholy Night

Thin grey strands drift upward;
heat reminds me of the cigarette,
held, forgotten.

And then,
I look for my lost reading glasses,
inert, on my nose.

That I listened,
to a young man playing softly, on his piano
is no excuse; I criticize my forgetfulness,
why does it trouble me?

Strands of my hair fall,
one by one, at the stroke of a brush;
I set a half-veil over my eyes
not wishing to acknowledge them.

Watching them float away, silent as time.




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