In those so carefully saved
Pictures in my recent album
When I look at her pretty, pale face
With a thoughtful yet detached expression
And a smile as if for some damage control
Enigma remains to me, why all this…
But the mystery only further deepens
A crisis in an already turbulent life
And a feeling of the absence and loss.
A strange simile, for it often reminds me
Of Amaltas, the ornamental Indian laburnum
Which on the onset of the Indian spring
Is always so profusely covered with
Those beautiful yellow golden flowers
But with almost total foliage loss
As if presenting a new testament of
The sad saga of an irreversible loss
Despite fantastic galore of yester years’
All those worldly achievements and gains.
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