WHAT REMAINS

To PRC

Haven't spent

an hour in the

overgrown backyard

since you left;

in the soft light

of mid-August evening

I still can see you

sitting there

a year ago,

as all your dreams

and hopes

had turned to dust

in my fumbling hands.

Now messages

have stopped,

and I'm leaving;

and on the glass

table of the backyard

a dead plant

I bought for you.

15.08.2020