When last I visited before Oblivion,

I hoped you would see me –

For a moment while lucid

I am forgotten progeny.

I hung on the wall like my photograph.

I was within reach but could not help.

 

I was within reach but could not help.

When last I visited before Oblivion,

So, I touched my photograph,

But you said, “Oh, this is a photo of me.”

I am forgotten progeny.

You were sure you were lucid.

 

How I wanted you to be more lucid.

I was within reach but could not help.

I am forgotten progeny.

When last I visited before Oblivion,

You were staring down at a picture of me –

That tacky yearbook photograph.

 

Dated hair, dated clothes of the photograph –

How could you not be lucid?

Didn’t you know it was me?

I was within reach but could not help.

When last I visited before Oblivion,

I am forgotten progeny.

 

I am forgotten progeny.

You jabbed, “This is me” into the photograph.

When last I visited before Oblivion,

I was within reach but could not help.

My love was not enough to make you lucid.

You yelled how you were me!

 

What did you mean that you were me?

I am forgotten progeny.

I was within reach but could not help.

My name was embossed on the photograph,

Was scratched out while you were not lucid,

When last I visited before Oblivion.

 

I wanted to help; did you see me?

On the edge of Oblivion – your progeny –

I gave you the photograph to keep you lucid.

 

 

by Karen Sullivan

Form: Sestina