Message from Afar
Yesterday evening, I was taking
my usual walk, with my son,
and came across a small bookshop.
I entered and a narrow staircase
led me upward,
to the second floor, a closed concave sky,
where people may
read leisurely over a cup of tea
Few people there,
perhaps because it was family time before a TV
or it was too scriptorium-like and not eye-catching enough,
with no hubbub of a department store
or pressing promotional banners of a mall.
A still flow of music
seeps in, subliminally, there and not there.
And a sudden raid of a vision,
ineffable, overpowered me,
and I knew not where it came from,
welling up from the inner or falling down from the outer,
like the light and shadow under the broad enamel lampshade.
Do you know what came to my mind?
Do you not know what I felt?
lovely, lively, clever and quick,
does not love books that much,
like his father.
He was born
the second year after our separation,
and he will soon turn 16.
May 2, 2008