elegy
You're my oldest memory
And though you left when I was two
You are not history
I remember it all, it's true.
I can't recall anything before
Not anything after, I'm sure
Yet I remember you
Why? I have no clue.
One day you had to leave
Leaving us all in grief
Eight days away from my birthday
Strangely I don't remember it that way.
I've always wondered why
And every time I cry
I can see your face
And I wish for your warm embrace.
Sixteen years are now gone
But in my mind there is still a big storm.
In memorium: My great-grandfather.
1998, by Magda H.
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