Friday, April 22, 2011


evening arrives
as twilight erases the day's memory
stringing quivering shadows
into opaque childhoods

dripping softly
into black and white hearts
stretched out on stony windows

every breath a weary whisper, 
does love ever last
forever, ever?

1 comment:

Basanth said...

Wow! Until I understood what the title meant, I din't quite get the context.

Nabokov's explanation of the word seems to capture the word in its entirety. Such a lovely sounding word. Din't think it had such melancholy attached to it.