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Zywa
Poems
Oct 2020
In my shrine
Between the tangible past
I weigh what I can
put away, I weigh
what I can
All this familiar stuff
tiny things, a large suitcase
for a big trip, with a copy
of my passport from that time
Before I open the boxes, I turn
the superscription towards me
Yes, I remember
It's still there, dust-free
Kitchen equipment and crockery
empty frames and some
parts, just in case
which has not yet occurred
I know the stories
that go with it and I feel
a time difference that does not exist
in my memory of those days
For Afke Berkhout
Collection βThe Yellow House Museum"
#past
Written by
Zywa
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