By Fabrice B. Poussin
I watch her wrapping her memories with
the careful gentleness I have learned to yearn.
Why so soon when the sun hovers
in the unlikely dead of the night?
Her friends surround her with pressing questions
troubled by the unexpected news.
A tight circle of ladies encourage her
on this journey to a new season.
In the distance the poet cries as he watches
a crowd of unforgettable moments spent in her shadow.
A decade rushes to the confused soul
as if it was a dream which just came crashing.
Soon she will depart under gleeful clamors
leaving behind not even a trace.
Like the man of misunderstood verses
I fear the void her departing whirlwind will leave.
Poussin teaches French and English at a university in Georgia, USA. His work in poetry and photography has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and many other publications worldwide. Most recently, his collections “In Absentia,” and “If I Had a Gun,” were published in 2021 and 2022 by Silver Bow Publishing.
