AbsenceI visited the place where we last met.Nothing has changed, the gardens were well-tended,The fountains sprayed their usual steady jet;There was no sign that anything had endedAnd nothing to instruct me to forget.The thoughtless birds that shook out of the trees,Singing an ecstasy I could not share,Played cunning in my thoughts. Surely in thesePleasures there could not be a pain to bearOr any discord shake the level breeze.It was because the place was just the sameThat made your absence seem a savage force,For under all the gentleness there cameAn earthquake tremor: fountain, birds and grassWere shaken by my thinking of your name.
Elizabeth Jennings (2002)
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