dilluns, de desembre 19, 2005

For Tom (English / Spanish)

to each thing comes an end
to love
to life
to roses
to fruit baskets
to French class

at times we anticipate the end
with dread
with glee
with sorrow
with fear
with yearning

the end still comes

even to long held friendships
like ours

I write this little poem now
to say good-bye officially
to cancel my subscription
to ignore any future bulk solicitations

we grew distant
apart
I'm sure it was you who stopped sharing
too much entrenched in friend-love
you wanted to bolt years ago and didn't
so our friendship became a Parkinson's vicitim
shaking
and long suffering
still only a shadow of its former self

you have small dreams of a big life
a wife and children
a career
esteem
reknown

you are your father's son
and each of his sins you hold title to
you drink too much
you have few friends
whom largely you ignore
your career is your life now
nascent
even so
as he
you will build it quietly
ethically
resolutely
and no one will care
still you will laud it as earth shattering
and proclaim your self-assured self-righteousness as he

you wrote a poem to me and gave it to me
the second one anyone ever wrote
at least that I ever found out about
I have it on my wall
I read it from time to time
I muse upon it
and ponder a distant past
once upon a time I was relavent to you
once upon a time you were at a crossroads
in Frost's yellow wood
alas you did not take the road less travelled
rather you followed the time worn roads laid before you
and walk a path further and further from mine

it's not all your fault
I wandered off myself
to a comfortable world you cannot inhabit
a special kind of complacency known only to picaros
yo he llegado a mi buen puerto
you were born into yours'
you have something to prove
I just want to enjoy my bienes
el fruto de mi sufranza
I waited from time to time at life's roadside
always expecting that you would catch up
you will
and when you do you will walk right on by
I doubt you would notice me there
waving

so I won't be there when you do
I'll be off in my little nest
and I won't pay you any mind
you have your future before you
embrace and love it
I will take my bow when the curtain falls for my small part
and remember fondly your charity your love
from the days when they flowed freely
when you were young and free
from the days when I inspired you to put pen to paper
that is how I will think on you
image of youthful poet
idealistic and energetic
that is is how you will live in my memory
and there
you will live as long as I do
and I will still cherish our times
and still in those ghostly murky realms
I will say
I love you

1 comentari:

Gumbo42 ha dit...

breaking up is hard to do.