I took the past to lunch today
And over salads, told her it was over

I said,
She was getting too expensive to keep
And her wardrobe, while exotic,
Was looking tawdry

I told her,
That purples and scarlets
Really were not my colors at all
Nor were roses that delicate
A flower that deserved
Lifelong devotion
From my nostrils

I admitted,
The letters I wrote her in a fever
Seem treacly now
And I was not in the mad
Rush anymore to anoint myself
The world’s greatest wounded heart

I did say,
She was always good for a laugh
Or a nostalgic jaunt
And also: two thousand poems
And if someone
Walking through the grass
Can find a gem among the weeds
I say, God bless ‘em.

She did ask me,
If I wanted to fill her glass again
And get drunk
Like we used to do
But outside it was raining
And after I walked her to the cab
And watched her ride away at last
The downpour soaked me to the skin
And I never felt so clean.

07/13/2009

Author's Note: From an idea germinated by Regina Brett, 90-year old columnist for the Cleveland Plain-Dealer, whose "45 Lessons for Life" is a wildly popular, oft-repeated column. Lesson number 11: "Make peace with your past so it doesn't screw up the present."

Posted on 07/13/2009
Copyright © 2025 Ken Harnisch