In the afterlife - Mark Strand
She stood beside me for years,
or was it a moment?
I cannot remember.
Maybe I loved her,
maybe I didn’t.
There was a house,
and then no house.
There were trees,
but none remain.
When no one remembers,
what is there?
You,
whose moments are gone,
who drift like smoke in the afterlife,
tell me something,
tell me anything.