Wandering over the restless sky,
a feeble moon
drifting through a ghostly parade
of broken clouds, flowing
veils the wind has drawn over the dying day…
There he was, long robe blowing
in the cool breeze,
a big hat hiding his face,
a stranger, a thief at my door…
drawing it shut, closing the gate –
as if he was leaving his house, my home…
Yet, I was the stranger, naturally,
as I came closer,
he turned and looked at me…
an empty cloak standing alone,
a shadow the wind took away
like a memory of unknown days,
forgotten lives, tired dreams
lost on the road where time stands still,
no horses trot and no wheels roar,
The shadow of a man
who once opened this door,
to which death threw away the key…


Sybille (Sydney) Krivenko GISC2052924 2007