Ah, Nora.
I don't know why
I still think these thoughts.
It's been so many years.
Never mind the why of it,
I doubt even you could know.
How you could have taken such a part
of me.  Of us.  All of us.
It's the how that dogs me.
Those years when we were apart,
me busy trying to raise the boy,
you doing whatever it was you did;
those were unhappy years.  For me,
I can say.  For you, I can only think so.
O, Nora.  
It's been such a long time.
Now that the boy's all grown, almost,
what will be left of us?
When you came back, I didn't look
this far down the road.  Here we are.
What can I do?  What's done is done.
Forgiving's easy.  Forgetting, well...
not so.
Nora, Nora,
that time so long ago
that never should have been.

r ~ 5/24/14