Late Thoughts

Impossible, the decades gone

with all the stars I’ve wished upon

still there. My wishing time is done.

From time to less of it, I leap

and learn a little what to keep

beside me. Down is always steep.

I fall. We all fall down at last,

turn every present into past

and wonder how it went so fast.

There’s no one left but me and you,

it seems: a house, an empty shoe,

and nobody to say what’s true

or false. Take what you need. No more.

Though no one’s really keeping score.

Remember to pull shut the door.