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,
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
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.

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