What can I say that hasn’t been said,
when everything comes back again –
recycled
like clothes washed and worn,
what is new today
is old tomorrow;
nature recycles herself,
seeks peace in the well-known
memories:
feelings recycled,
the friendly house,
a safe haven,
familiar faces: warming fires,
welcoming;
do not change what is,
it frightens me -
the neighbour’s dog lingers around,
he knows our story,
it’s written on the ground,
I, too, will sit here for a while
and watch the wild geese fly

Sybille(Sydney)Krivenko 2007