survival of disappearance
stranger than the way it is
with unknown translation
like an escaped oblivion
or quatrains from a vanished book
written on yellow paper
with purple-black ink
casting shadows among the shades
that group the lime trees
in their huddle of powdered gold
gathering scattered thoughts together
in an epitaph to the vanishing of
extreme affection and devotion
that passes away
in the hand of the wind