An unrhymed sonnet.
So, I have tried bargaining with your plans,
with patience, waiting like I have been told;
then frantically keeping busy -
to find that only time has passed, that’s all.
The promises and the companionship
which were foretold, or at least offered
by your letters, somehow seem to be dreams
exhaled from my heart, from my memory.
In sorrow, grief and my abandonment
arose the need to carry on alone.
The mud from melted snow is washing down
the street and into other people’s yard.
And now with all my expectation lost,
Stripped bare, I’m left to finally see you.