A flatness of feeling falls and rests on my shoulders like leaves that
Drop from the maple at summer’s end.
Graceful fatigue.
My hands are limp at my side.
They have no wish to grasp at false strings of hope.
All of the passions of my youth have died.
Now, I only care for truth.

How quickly I have aged.
Only a few years ‘til I reach my expiration date
And all I’ll leave here are a few words on a page.
Words of rage.
And the love of a man that time forbade.

His soul bears the scars of my mutiny.
I am guilty.
But somewhere in his veins,
Somewhere etched in his DNA
Is all of the love I gave.
I did not take it with me.

I heard news of him today.
He has a wife and a summer house on a lake,
And
He’ll be a daddy soon.

Isn’t that beautiful?
What a fitting dénouement.