Old Flame ii

What happened

to you?

The black

horn rimmed

glasses, the

formless striped

pullover, the

wedding ring

I would have

thought you’d

wear, the

weight I see

you’ve gained

beneath your

fidgeting fingers,

what happened

to you?

Why didn’t you

tell me?

I would have

cared. It

would have

made a difference,

because I do,

still hold

the image of

you upon a

beach, carving

a word or two

or three

within a heart

upon the sand.

What happened

to you?

Even if you

could not stop

the tide from

going out

or in,

you might have

told me.

You might

have let

me try.