Yours Truly, Until

So I just stood there
Stupid turned and one-half step taken
She sweet gave me her number
But all was already in vain and forsaken:

I had refused to hear—
Her heart busted to smithereens;
A lifelong love basely shattered
By passion thoughtless as it careens

Over such delicate mornings and deep nights
Which live in the gossamer hearts of our dreams;
And her I merely dare to take a turn
In her knight’s livery rent to it’s very seams.

Maybe I might could call?
Or even risk a texted message?
To her so lovely, lonely self
Of the yoga and the massage?

My hand paralyzed, quick stayed;
My breath caught in my chest;
Come we again to a path diverging:
Heed the call? Or, to demur is best?

Festivals beckon in Acadiana,
And I so wish with her to dance,
But I can’t see any clear path
Where I even stand a chance.

So, patiently one ought wait,
And hope quickly for the thaw,
When signals are made clear
That it could be okay to make a call.

So, presently sending fervent wishes
With love in neutral just over the hill,
But whatever future turns may come,
Signed: Yours truly, Until~

About Kitt

Sometimes a rhyme or couplet wanders across my consciousness. So, I share it. Other times I'm a hospice social worker; others, a Dad; others, southerner, New Orleanian, cajun enthusiast, voter, and on better days, a not-too-awful-poet/rhymster. Welcome to my page. Enjoy.

Posted on April 25, 2022, in Poem. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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