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.