XI

Notes Fluttering in the Wind

Papers rip and flutter from my book

symbols litter the clear surface of the parchment

crumples and rips decorate the edges

I hide them under a rock,

hoping that they will find you

But you are nowhere to be found

Nothing moves or dreams here

the ground barely shifts like sand

and the longer I stand and stare,

the more it feels like

everything has grown stagnant

like time has halted completely

If it weren’t for me,

this place would be a complete vacuum

What happened?

Why is it that every place I go,

especially here where I believed you’d be,

there is nothing?

Nothing but my breath

and that of the air which

barely whispers past me

But I leave these papers behind

in hopes that my log will mean something

In hopes that someone will find them

and know that the historian found them special

That they’ll find you and you’ll know

that I’ve been here

as they flutter along

the only trace of life this place

has ever known