Back when I harbored dreams of happiness
I never knew someone like you could exist;
Now bereft of illusions of happily-ever-after
I have also lost you to the intangible mist.
Gray hairs belie verse-play at candor,
Dread of isolation my long sole companion;
Such chutzpah of thinking it possible—
To reach you across Love’s great canyon.
At best you’ll admit a charming acquaintance,
For which I can only ever be grateful;
Sparing you the hurt and the desperation
That leaves one piteous and hateful.
Now the sun rises cold though promising,
For the day is still young and carefree.
Are you returning to the far hill country?
Please convey wishes for well ease from me.