Homecoming: a poem by Jelle Cauwenberghs

21 October 2017 // Poetry

Water follows me home  like a ghost. 
La grisaille with long feathery arms  
lets me in.
 'Whereto next?' it whispers, 
and white birds fill my heart 
with longing.  
"How much room is there for memory, 
in the loose girdle of soft rain?" 
I want to tell you, too late, 
it can hold a hurricane,  
if you open the windows and pick up 
the broken birds.  
Save the ones you can save, 
 and bury the others. That is love. 
It is hopeless,  
and yet, 
I go, I went, and I keep returning.

*

Jelle Cauwenberghs on Caught by the River

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