Perrine Aronson

The night is deep and dark.

The stars light up the river,
Reminiscence of the fragile lanterns hassled by wavelets.
On the banks of fiery waters,
Flooded with merchants, surrounded by onlookers, 
She sits, quiet and wise, awaiting enlightenment;
The blurry crowd around fading in oblivion.
Further away, I stare, focused,
Her back bent by the weight of years and knowledge.
I sigh and realize,
The current of time's river
Will carry off all human deeds
Hers too will disappear into the maw of life
Forgotten by all
But me.
And I wonder, is there one
That will someday remember me
And treasure my memory?