By Silvana Krculic

I left my village at fourteen...
My heart just a bud, the mountains so green!
Went to the nearest city, attended school there.
Found new friends. Not a care...
In Rijeka I found my very first love,
Not knowing it's the city I'd have to walk out of.
Mountains called--it's been your luck
From the Adriatic you have to pack.
If you could have seen, the look on my face!
Every line, every nerve was out of place.
In one suitcase I took my belongings
Straight for the airport--I forgot my longings.
All I heard '...go to New York.'
The waves will travel back and forth.
I came to the West, long way I traveled
New things I found, new life unraveled...
West offered hospitality.
Words came to me...'soon turned to poetry.'
I waited by the water for the old wave to return.
The summer was real hot, got a sun-burn.
Huge wave came, I wanted to shout,
But as it came in, again it went out.
Like a ringlet rolling, so fast it went...
I threw in the bottle the message I sent.
I sent it back home to my old lover:
'If the storm comes--just run for cover!'
But return when the waves are in tune
Be it October, May or June.
As I watched, it was out of reach...
With the mist I got splashed here on the beach.
And don't expect me to write often;
Even though at some point this heart will soften.
You asked to reconsider, if there was a chance?
You even came to see me twice.
Held my hand, we went for a 'spin...'
I said leaving you was my biggest sin.
I asked how are-you? You said you were great.
Wish we could meet again after eight.
Or, instead...you said, before I am gone--
Let's get together tomorrow at one.
But there is a destiny for everyone.
I was late. You were gone!
The thread is broken. There are things we can't defy.
I still hear you saying 'Silvannah Good-bye!'
S.K.

Submitted By Silvana Krculic

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