The encounter

I saw him once
Or did I?
He seemed very real at the time
More than real
He was splendidly alive!

He came to me
We started to talk
The connection was immediate
Between us

It doesn’t take long
To connect with someone’s heart

We dined together
He saw my paintings
He said the hyacinths I drew
Were wonderfully fragrant
I gave the painting to him…

He gave me his poems
I translated them
They stayed in storage
For a long time

And flood waters
May have destroyed them

Was he real?
Was it a dream?
Did we even ever meet?

We did!
He has my painting
I have his poetry
Some of which
I committed to heart

That short encounter
Will stay with me
I don’t know where he is…
But does it matter, really?

Lida Berghuis
August 9th, 2015

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