When You Were Here

When you were here,
The world used to breathe you,
So how can the world breathe
If you are not in it?
I can still see the wind in the trees
That shakes the leaves,
And there are still birdsongs that remind me of you,
I think…
And there are still rivers and seas,
And birds and bees,
And all those little shades
Around December days
That have this unmistakeable lack of you,
And the world goes on
And on and on,
And there are still events and people,
And music, and painting,
And writing, all this writing,
Concerts and plays,
Critics and praise,
Beautiful songs
Performed in a daze,
Running and jumping,
And singing for nothing,
And all this insisting
That it’s all just for something,
And friends still exist,
And they laugh, and desist,
And everything’s still happening.
Nothing’s stopped happening,
I must admit,
Nothing’s stopped happening…
And the world-
Well, what is the point
If you are not in it?


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