“Two separate worlds:
yours and mine
collapsed at the end of the road.
Years lost in twisted ropes
spread their wings like swans.”

– Pranab Bandyopadhyay, Indian poet


“Let her cry for she’s a lady
Let her dream for she’s a child
Let the rain pour down upon her
She’s a free and gentle flower growing wild.”

– fr. lyrics of  Wildflower, Skylark


(for Judy N., 1977)

you and I are bookends.
between us, we hold
the books of years together
and keep them from falling apart.


you and I are falling apart
(we move farther away)
in Time,
as more and more years

come between us.

– between
you and me
are years.

(c) 1978 Chito L. Aguilar


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