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  ALL THE ANGER IS NOW GONE
WHEREVER, WHATEVER LOVE WAS,
WENT.

THROUGH THE PARTED CURTAINS
I LOOK AT MEMORIES
OBSCURED BY BRANCHES AND LEAVES
CROWDING AND TAPPING THE CLOSED PANES

I PUT THE TIPS OF MY FINGERS ON THE GLASS,
AND UNTOUCHING
STIR THE TENDER LEAVES
AND WITHOUT PASSION
THE MEMORIES

WHICH AWAKE BUT REMAIN
UNSEEN, UNFELT
IN A MIST SO THICK,
SO STILL
IT HOLDS MY BREATH SO
NEITHER JOY NOR SIGH
ESCAPE

I CANNOT HEAR THE THROBBING OF MY HEART
AND I CANNOT HEAR THE SILENCE OF THE
DEAD BATTLES OF MY MIND

EYES FAILING TO HEAR, EARS TO SEE
AND THE HAND CANNOT HOLD BACK,
WIND BLOWN, THE BRANCHES AND THE LEAVES
AWAY FROM THE WINDOW, CLEARING BRIEFLY MY VISION

I KNEW THEN THAT I WAS NOT MERELY TIRED
I KNEW THEN THAT I HAD FINISHED LOVING
THAT I HAD FINISHED LIVING

ramesh gandhi