One Year

It’s precisely one year since Paul left. Losing someone is sad and remains sad for as long as we live. We shall go to the sea with flowers and I intend to use one of his favorite objects so that the words I have to tell him today sink into the deep:

Your fine promises
Were like the dew of life
To a parched plant,
But now the autumn
Of another year goes by.

Prince Fujiwara no Motoyoshi

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