To sit behind the curtain of your heart
the deepest place, within folds and fall
of heavy cloth, farther inside the Father
darkened stage, emptied, concertís end
vacated hall, hush where last to mingle
have left, ancestors, cleared a balcony
exhausted intensity, coming down, weary
unwound in the absence of light, to gather
scattered parts, stimulants of memory
all impressions have gone into the night.
© Jan G. Otterstrom F.
April 7, 2015