Lament
Turning in the cloister,
skirling pipes
cry their exit;
breath becoming music,
complex notes
scrying the unknown
at the leaving of the spirit.
In countless quiet rooms,
in singularity or chorus,
complex feelings
stab and stir
in ambush.
Screens share finalities.
Fading into mist
Her reality,
at the mercy of historians
and opinions,
complex addenda
will realign
the familiar.
New generations
will not experience
nor understand
our lament.
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