Sunday, September 30, 2012

Leaving Brussels



The radio is passing that song
Ne me quitte pas” it implores.

Laying down on my terrace
I can observe the autumn leaves 
coming and going,
continuously,
from the trees,
in the breeze.

The white pages of my diary are waiting for me
to be filled.
Lost for words, 
I am just dreaming all my memories.

Seven years have gone by
and 
I can now feel the heat on my skin
burning me 
with an unusual ray of light.

A light made
of love
of family
of feeling home.

“C`était au temps où Bruxelles rêvait “
Jacques still sings
and I keep on dreaming.

Until suddenly,
the Belgian rain,
dripping in and out my eyes,
shuts the doors of my memory behind.

Je m’en vais, je quitte,
I leave. Au revoir.