Sunday 29 March 2015

A poem by Hanny Michaelis

this afternoon – the room
filled to the brim with sun
and sweeping baroque music –
I thought unawares
of what you once said
to me about
sorrow being the keynote
of existence.
That night tears
came to my eyes. Now
I just slightly
moved my head
like a donkey
plagued by flies.

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