Here's a poem that suits the mood of late. Written some time ago, but some things never change.


How It Ends

I
We just wanted
For the world
To be beautiful

But Plato's footnotes
Burned with
Innocent words

Spring break
She smiled
Moving 101 south

You can't return
Once you say
I love you

II
Not a wedding
Or a divorce
Packing the car

Not the one
Or not ready
Or both

III
In late hours
I made camp
Among the lonely

Cigarettes and reflections
Decades malted
Into monologue

The view becomes
A reflection
Of some value

There's no regret
Only the rain
Falling