Do you remember those summers long ago
That forested valley where we lived
Remote, cocooned in silence?
After sundown the bush smelt dry and honeyed
And moths crowded the lamplight.
I cut a hole in the hut wall
With a chainsaw
Slapped in a pane of cracked glass
To watch the close-by ridgelines in the night.
Stars blazed, owls sang their comfortless cry
And the creek purred at the edge of our sleep.
Yes, you liked it there
And if I had offered you something different
You would not have been enchanted.
That long ago life seems
So far behind us now
But I remember the moths
Blue-sheened and dazzled
In the lamp’s bright aureole
And watching them fall
One by one
I knew you wouldn’t be here long.
– Jogyata.
