Déjà Vu
In Memoriam for Betty Hardy
She wasn’t you
Standing at a strange bar
In a Carmarthen pub.
This smiling girl living in your mask
Laughed with another voice.
Surrounded as you once were
By boys, futureless as memory,
Young as immortality.
No. She wasn’t you.
But only time, and place, and death,
Disproved her face was yours.
And only growing with regret
Kept me from foolishness.
Allowing me to bear the unexpected pain
Of seeing once again, your stunning face
Enthused with life.
No, she wasn’t you.
You were three hundred miles
And twenty years away,
And not alive, to hear me say,
I saw your lovely image
Laugh again today.
©James Rainsford 2011
Note to readers:
The image above is called ‘Traces of Deja Vu.’ It is reproduced by kind permission of ~2Mino. You can click on the photo to view it in large format.
This poem means a very great deal to me. When I discovered this wonderful piece of photo manipulation by: ~2Mino on http://www.deviantart.com I knew I could finally share this poem with others. Not only did ~2Mino’s work carry the same title as my poem, but his brilliantly decorated girl bears a heart stopping resemblance to the poem’s subject. I feel as though this amazing image, has in some strange way, made her immortal.
Coincidence is occasionally beyond our understanding.
