WITHOUT THINKING

This occasional but heavy feeling creeps up on you
as dusk approaches: Here is another piece of our lives
that means nothing. Our aim is off again.

Getting down to the coast,
the water and the horizon
seem to lean in quietly, almost
silently, echoing the same message
with the confidence
that it will some day be heard: “It’s not here.”

We try and we try, and it just doesn’t
seem to be the way we envision it. Everything
has been replaced, and this is what now exists between us:
“Good-bye old friend—I can’t make you stay.”
“Good-bye to you—you won’t be seeing me again.”

(April 5, 2009)