When the Stars Remember Our Names
by W. Wayne Lin

You will be gone someday,
I know.
fleeting, fading …
and then you left in a day.

When the October rains fall,
ridge winds blow
all your bright dresses torn to pieces.
Crumbling on the ground,
cluttering the drain.

You knew all along.
Your hours were numbered.
When summer is over,
you were swept away.
Quiet like you first came,
no sound, no cry.
No hello, no goodbye.
Like waves, you move on,
leave the ocean behind.

Before the dead winter,
your rustling whispers,
drifting, drifting,
murmuring like tides;
“Always I will,
find my place,
back to the shore.”



 

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