Lonely
Roads that are familiar to her,
Roads lined by tall trees,
Trees preserving her fragrant memories
In rings upon rings,
Each one embracing the last
In protective warmth and weight,
My god, just like these roads,
She could lift them up by the tassels
And bunch them around her neck
Like scarves, mellow and bright,
Wrapping her age in romantic recollections.
I don’t see myself anywhere here,
I don’t recognize these roads,
These trees are hard and cold beneath my hands -
I don’t remember the people here,
I only feel lonely and vast, the forgotten sky.