The Fading

I don’t remember which came first, the music or the lyrics. Looking back, perhaps they arrived hand in hand.

It was an image. I’m not sure from where. Just a brief scene. Her by the fire, I in the room, reading or watching the fire; perhaps I was saying something.

She heard what I said (or not), rose and turned to face me. She fingered her hair a little, then hesitated, as if she meant say something. But she said nothing. Instead she smiled, and vanished.

Into thin air.


The Words:

Silent by the fire
you rose to retire

slowly as you fingered
your hair and then lingered

and then you turned
to me and you smiled
at what you saw

and what I saw
was how you faded
into leaving

my heart in despair
my eyes in awe

Ulf Wolf
Winter 1998/Summer 2005
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