When we met last
near those familiar stone steps,
you apologetic somehow and me somewhat
I did not turn back and look again
to see the sad poetry of that moment.
words seemed needless then, even though
the need was great.
And now, years later,
I think of that moment and wonder
why I must carry the solitude of those hours
till I can carry on.
I wish I had turned back and disturbed
the sad poetry of that moment,
and asked you, why?