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Walked the slanting shadowed beach
Chatting with a friend, then
Home to sunset.
Geese squabble over head,
Wings whirring, silhouettes against
Rose darkening skies
I listen to the splash of river landings,
The cacophony of meetings, seated
On your bench.
This has been a difficult week
And our dogs are getting old,
I remind myself
The day is coming closer
I know, for hard decisions, meanwhile
Sky is amazing.
A simple answer I sought:
how unrequited must love be,
to be considered caught
in such hurt it drags the psyche
undeservedly distraught?
Is it when with each moment I yearn,
pathetically through the day,
a gnawing, niggling burn,
pain of parting in everyway,
a wounded heart I should spurn?
Or, past the pathetic, culpable bliss
of wallowing in the reprimand,
would it count that what I miss
Is more the moment than the man
More the idea, than the kiss?