WHEN THEY ARE GONE

Now, looking backwards

you couldn't say they were great men (and women) -

no, they were more akin

to the people

you find around great people,

prominent in their own way, as long

as it lasted, yet

quick to fade, and now,

forgotten like

the leaves of yesteryear. Where

they are now, no one

goes on anniversaries to leave

a rose or a bouquet or a bottle of

some fine wine or even cognac;

no, they have

found their peace under moss

covered stones with fading letters

and numbers, dates no one recalls

and names only people

like you and me -

the kind of people one once found

around them, the lesser kind

of people the once prominent

had scattered in their midst. And now

we, withered and gray and white

fade with each breath we take.

27.11.2017