WHEN THE YOUNG GIRL WAS ILL, WE DIDN’T CRY

When the young girl was ill and in the hospital
we counted every stone in the garden
and every step down the street
and patience didn’t help us
and impatience didn’t help us either.

One day it rained and one day the sun shone.
I walked by her empty house under the rain and the sun
and my heart was like her house
and my head was like her house
and my hands were empty too.
​
At night we had either clouds or stars.
We turned toward each other and we turned away
and we didn’t cry and we didn’t think
and we counted the leaves that fell in silence
​and the many buds that grew silently to meet them.