Life Sans La Mode
A leaf dropped straight down, slowly
As we whizzed by, 58 MPH. It didn’t
Twirl or flutter, the last leaf down
In Carolina this autumn.
It’s been eight years since winter. In
Gainesville or Tarpon Springs we didn’t
Notice leaves. We didn’t have to
Explain to anyone. Uninhibited.
Then Christmas trapped us. A week
To joke about upon returning. It didn’t
Mean to force such cynical remarks:
Pondering, floundering, repackaging gifts.
It’s been a year since the creative mode.
Apart from it, life’s progressed: sour to vile.
It didn’t mean to leave me in the cold:
Creative forces have no bad intentions.
We broke up at my request. Intentions
Were to lead a normal life. I didn’t
Look back, cry or wallow very long,
But life without it hasn’t been the best.
Copyright, Doug Stuber, 1987. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given, and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.