← v13n1, Spring 2014Poetry · Volume 13, Number 1
In Memoriam
A ring, a chair,
but above all the glasses, that appear, suddenly
as if ready to put on.
“Where did I leave my glasses?” The constant question
is inaudible now but can almost be heard
or rather, it is now in the twilight zone
between reality and remembrance. Stronger
than a single memory, the question sticks
to the glasses and makes them swing
between what is here now—silence—
and what was on the day when your glasses
were always forgotten: Ah, my glasses!
Where did I put them?
