augenblick, by Chris Goode

when I lived I was something like you

a fleshly bundle of hungers and passions

feverishly interrogating the big questions

and not waiting for the answers

now I’m the draught that moves the curtains and rattles blinds

the slats of sunlight creeping over the carpet marking slow hours

the shadow in the tail of your eye when alone in the night-time

the sound that wakes you perspiring in the chill of 3 am

do I feel privileged | superior

or merely sad

discovering how I have been judged

how I have been missed | the shape of my absence

watching the struggle still going on

laying down complexities

before the great simplifications come

sweeping it all away | vita brevis est