Saturday, May 12, 2007

A good friend shared this poem to me in November 2005 amidst the great heartbreak of my life. I forgot about it until I chance upon it again while I was cleaning my gazillion work e-mails the other day.

It's once again very timely as I am about to end another journey to begin a new one. Read on. :)

Silvia Curbelo

In a room not unlike this one
someone is always leaving someone else.

Someone blows out a candle.
Someone has finished the wine.

The single glove laid open
on the windowsill tells only

half the story. Try to imagine
the hundred metaphors for flight,

for endings, a door finally closing
and what is left behind--

the robe with its torn lining,
a scarf, cufflinks, an old shoe.

A man's abandoned overcoat
brings to mind train stations,

suitcases, footsteps
vanishing down the hall.

There is no mistaking
the closet door left ajar,

the empty hangers
like the thin shoulders

of loss, of distance.
If you have loved

someone like that
you have imagined his hands

opening other doors, unbuttoning
his shirt in other rooms.

Even as the buttons fall away
there is no turning back.

A dropped shoe is an island.
A scarf will break your heart.

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