I thought it wise not to mention how I felt
When you said what you said that day.
The feeling was unpleasant so I tried to stop it;
I didn’t want to reveal too much, give myself away.
You told me later that you could have put yourself
In my position. You wondered how I might have felt –
But at the time, you did not, and I was doing my best
To suppress and hide my true response –
A struggle – but I think I got away with it,
Containing the initial shock with the dumb silence
That comes with knowing that there is little to say.
I truly know that arguing got us nowhere –
It never did in the past and I do not expect
That to change in the watery blink of an eye.
Nothing to do, but sit and wait, resist the tears
Welling yet waiting in the background,
And the anger, building up a storm cloud
And the sheer frustration that held back my hands,
And the sense of relief now that it’s over.
And another thing I could have said
But now, in hindsight, am glad that I did not
Is that I thought we could work it out
Amicably, as if we were still friends …
But that notion fled like the fallen leaves
In front of the man with the leaf-blower.
The soul the matter has been addressed,
Dismissed, and the next chapter begins
Even before the last one has tied up its loose ends
Which could drag on until the clouds have long dispersed
And the fire burned down to dull grey ash.
But I know that from the embers comes creativity.
Changing, transforming in unexpected ways,
Ways that no one could have foreseen,
Especially me, temporarily blinded by the thrill of conflict,
Now looking forward, once again
Putting my lips to far better purpose.
© 2016 Peter Young