"Too late" I remind myself,
too late to go back now.
There are some stones
that can't be turned
because I'm an adult now;

That's what this means.

The love I feel
exists,
but it's not
what I chose.

And what if I'm tired
of being the old soul?

I begin to discover--
there is daring in
playing it safe.
And I'm happy--

enough.

Don't look in the misty waters of
"could have been"

what is? what has been?

I rested my head
on his shoulder, a plea
of my youth
asking the world
"is this all there can be
for me?"

But the May in Maine is over.

Let it go
let him go.

And after weeks go by,
I can look back
on myself looking back,
and I'm so grateful that it was
too late.

I'm happy.
And that's enough.