Dark TimesClaudia Rey

I cherished
every speck of happiness
every atom of beauty
we lived, you and me,
as if I was storing them
for dark times.

Café Naval in Alonissos
clear sea in Croatia
Mozart in Guadalajara
sunset over Torcello
writing haikus in Orta.
And the domestic bliss
of reading in bed
on Sunday mornings.
And a glass of wine
while cooking together.

But in dark times
memories turn
into pinned butterflies:
as cruelly beautiful
as useless and dead.