I often speak of all I was before,

Those ghosts carried ever in my casement,

Echoing, like the voices of the wars

I traversed, yet now I feel displacement,

Life in pause, forbidden summits, woods, shores,

Shops, parties, pavements,

Vanished continents, consonants, confidence,

The family, colleagues; friends I see no more;

Those ghosts carried ever in my casement,

I often speak of all. I was, before.

Antonia Sara Zenkevitch

For other posts exploring similar topics check out Chronic Illness and Disability, (which starts with the same poem), Indices, or Wild Forever. Below, (also repeated from a parent page),  is a collage on the theme of the poem.