Grief at Parting

I let the moment go.
I left you lap and your breasts, my sister's breasts,
to rest my weary head on dreams and colder memories
not strong enough to be weak on honest enough to want
and afraid to ask as I wasn't sure.

What am I supposed to do with all these feelings?


4 August 1991
 
 
I only vaguely remember the event that triggered this poem but not what it’s about. I know it takes its title from a painting by Giorgio de Chirico, ‘The Melancholy of Departure’ but I’m no...