It is always a little strange
To bring it in
And try to fathom it all
Into mere words
And sentences.

It is suddenly quiet now
Nearly reaching that midnight hour
And I have done
As much as I can
For the day
And the night.

It can feel lonesome
And like a ferocious dance
To go at it
So on my own these days.

I remember the little bouquet of flowers
Or the intense pick up and kiss
In my little
And big time
That I've spent in Chicago thus far.

I watched those flowers wilt
I shied away from that pick up and kiss.

I guess thats just how it is
When its so clearly
Not a fit.