In Memory of Louise Glück
The words flutter like wings
flying over a foreign city
you have never visited.
Perhaps there is snow.
Certainly ghosts.
Your mother might have
lived there. Your daughter.
There are gardens
and a castle.
At one time, a guard
patrolled by the hour.
You can hear the clock chiming,
a tune only heard alone.
Remember when you were
a couple, just engaged perhaps,
or just broken up,
stopping to look over the bridge,
the water slightly rippling,
a swan and maybe a frog
swapping stories.
Before you know it the moon
has arisen and taken
its assigned place
to entice lovers
and madness
out of the lower shadows:
this flying of silence
and deep language.
Painting Courtesy of Our Featured Artist Fahed Mohammed Shehab
