I have known you for too long. I should
be watching trees and flowers grow, hues
of parks I’ve never seen.
So long, my friend, I can think of many places
I’d rather be in:

southern hemisphere beaches, catching oysters,
seashells with my hands. In early summer,
with hot water and the smell of coffee beans.

A place in the sunlit distance, not
in the rust of an ending marriage.

If I die without love, so be it. I’ll follow
toward the brightness of a healthy and mature day,
shining and clean, just like a fish’s scales
when it jumps out of water.