A sad city's sad love

We never sat at the sea's edge or

under a bridge or in a park on benches.

yes, we saw the river, the declining river, brown with bad fate

and thought it too far away.

we knew the lake was receding into the silence of memories

and the bridges were falling down.

we never had a sea to begin with and our meeting places
had no benches for beggars or lovers.

We saw the leaves fall, the river die, the crust on our masks

get strong. Our love was neither strong nor wise.

and yet, we loved, inspite of the river dying and the lake forgetting.

Our love was sad without the moon and the rustling of leaves,

fallen leaves.

Our love song forgotten thus in the dust of the river,
we said hurried goodbyes, glad it was over.

There are still no benches for lovers and beggars. The lake has

jumped into the mountains, a mystery for those who care. And the

river, defining our love, has found the sea, gone.

And you and me, unwise, linger in the shadow of words spoken

with disdain, forgotten with a pain hidden from each other.