Traces to nowhere
The immortal Carlos Kleiber once said: “I am lost to the world.”
I walked
slowly
on the
glistening
sands.
There were
many tracks,
and
I thought
I was leaving
some of my own.
When I turned
around,
the impressions
were gone,
washed over
by the waves.
The water
had purified
the past;
the ocean
hummed
in syllables.
There was a liberating thought:
the only traces
that we leave
are in
our imagination.