As soon as you were gone
I started counting,
for I expected two would come exactly
at the end of one, or so it should,
but the maths in this garden of mine,
oh my, were such an unreliable thing
I might as well expect
horizons to be horizontal, but
that damn thorn
was meticulously tearing apart
every plan,
every calculation
The darkest came sooner,
the sweeter never came,
and over this river, nothing
but the winter's blackest rain
Such a pity all these calculations
in my garden,
all these variables and constants,
that I sketched with the outmost care...
Really, nobody would ever imagine
how much love can go
into the simplest equation
No comments:
Post a Comment
Leave your commentary. Thanks!