THE LAST STAGE

Sentiments
evaporated.
Photos and flowers,
overrated.
Wistful sobbing
while thinking back
I’m either numb
or I’ve lost the knack.
Penetration,
deep in the past
with little emotion
just part of the cast.
Those days of dramatic
life or death
seem pale compared
to relief I’ve felt.
The decision is made
to start anew
without the control
I gave to you.

8-29-1987