So it’s you again

Intruding on my life

Whose dreams were long ago

The stuff of dust or angel hair

Blown away in the first substantial

Breeze, until I got the sense

That dreaming was for fools

Which might have been the lesson

 I was born to learn

I allow you in, still trying

To redeem the past with

Could Have Beens and What-Ifs

That you, I know, would never do

And don’t think it does not bother me

To know I am the only one

Pondering the crossword

With the nub of

An ancient pencil

Whose point has long

Been worn away

I could find you

Only to find I am the fool

I believe myself to be

In moments of quiet lucidity

But why crush the last of

My fantasies and leave this world

With nothing to hold onto

But the sense I made too much

Of what we didn’t have

And let escape scads

Of other possibilities

Knowing such

Would make my journey

Into Heaven

Ruinously sad

01/10/2005

Posted on 01/10/2005
Copyright © 2025 Ken Harnisch