Your name doesn’t matter.
I loved you.
We loved.
The years
I waited
by the river for your pickup
truck to find me. Footprints
scattered in the yellow sand.
Husband, mother-
in-law, kids wondering
where I’d gone.
You wouldn’t
the years I begged. Would
the years I wouldn’t. Only
one of us had sense at a time.
I won’t see you again.
I guess life presents you
choices and you choose. Smarter
over the years. Oh smarter.
The sensible thing smarting
thing to excess, I guess.
My life—deed I have
done to artistic extreme—I
drag you with me. Must wake
early. Ride north tomorrow.
Send you off. Are you fine?
I think of you often, friend,
and fondly.