With each fleeting message I have sent alone,
I bear witness to my friends’ each event alone
The final migration has long since passed,
The young birds making their ascent alone.
On strangers in markets, I spot one friend’s voice,
A second’s beard, a third’s nose bent, alone.
In the air, a friend’s laments float, crying
How they’ll put meager coin to rent alone
On his parting gift, the jacket in my arms,
I smell traces of his scent, alone.
After a few years, will the red strings of
Fate always be cut? I ponder in resent, alone.
Shuttered in the confines of house and mountain,
Strange lines does Felix invent alone.