‘not déjà vu again’

once more at a kerbside waving goodbye
seems I’m always waving at
drivers of departing cars
wondering if I’ll see them again
some with delicate hopefulness
some with dread
I watch their tail-lights
hot glowing cigarette ends
fading in the rain-night rain
blinking amber indicators
signalling right at the junction
then gone
she did not wave as she pulled away
she didn’t cast a look behind
‘you won’t see her again
funny that, we seemed suited,
no point in a follow-up call
no use texting.
she doesn’t want you
accept it – move on…
…that artist who lives in a chateau
overlooking the Loire
seems promising – for her
I’ll make out I’m an auteur’

© coolhermit 2023
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critique and comments welcome.
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if we don’t witness death while happening it’s easier to let go

not seeing anyone whose common fate is like a field half the world away is being magically handled by Time like wrinkles that disappear overnight especially when one decides it’s high time to act like an amateur one more time.

yeah I was shocked when I bought a book years ago I kept having wtf moments she is good too good etc. She was special. married to a poet they had kids some critics think he is responsible for her poetry getting better, he is not well known, he must have loved her too much let her be the famous one. I don’t know it felt weird even now it still feels weird reading her, brilliance is a big thing… she was too good, too good. would probably have been the next Greek to win a nobel

let’s add the link again just in case someone buys her book like you


Yale University Press would never bother if she wasn’t too rare and too special.

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