Maine

Originally composed Feb. 4, 2002

Two souls at opposite ends of the continent

We sat complacently
behind manacles both real and false,
never quite sure
as to what would transpire,
yet ever hopeful…
at least here, that is.

Laughter and tears filled
many evenings that were
enchanting and delightful.
Wicked fun I’ll say,
but nothing more.
At least there, that is.

How do you fare now?
My heart has grown threadbare
much as I had feared.
If only it were true that
those stitches had been real!
Anywhere, that is.