Plaintive
by boey kim cheng

We are past talking
about griefs
personal and universal,
though there is blood
enough in pen
for a paradise lost
and the one regained...

we are content with
the little visions
blessing the dark nights,
and the present afternoon,
both for whom we write
no elegies.

we are grateful
for the room and the place
we find
and have yet to leave behind...

-adapted-