It's a chilly October  morning
As I sit down and reflect
On this summer
I can see my breath
And my sleeves are long

Soon it will have been a year
Since this whole mess started
I'm not entirely sure
About how I've grown
Or the lesson I needed to learn
I don't even know what I want to write
But thank God for this music I'm playing  
Focusing my mind
I sit on a ledge in the Quad
Blasting this music from a small black box

If I learned a single thing from
The summer of my "discontent"
Is that there were parts of this world
And parts of myself
I was missing when I was with you
I am more whole without you

This notebook is filling up
Notebook I brought to Montana
Notebook I had in Yellowstone
Notebook I had in San Antonio
Where I tried to write
Woody Guthrie folk songs
And I first started
My Ginsberg-Kerouac-Sandburg
Poetics
I am not ready for this chapter to close
But like all things
It must
And I will love it always
Like every other chapter
I've lived
Even the one with her