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Woman's Fury
you must remember the sweetness
of her: her smile and the touch of her
soft hands
recall: the green hill and the blue
clouds, and the dinner together
candlelit and outside the kiss
by the door
long ago, twenty three years to be
exact, she went ahead and you
promised to follow
it did not work out and then she
comes back with a mask
she writes what you cannot
relate, not a hint of what really
happened
when things did not really work out
between the two of
you
she is emptying herself from anything
about you
it would have been a sweet love story
now the phantoms and gargoyles
are staying in her house
she cannot leave
she never outlived what was it that bound her.
this time, love means a lot if you would only say
I'm sorry.
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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