later, we walked silently,
over past the clearing,
valiant in our resignation,
eyeing only our destination —
internally: jumbled and inchoate,
seeking still something like assurance —
songs have been written about parting
til people think of it as a ritual.
in fact, it’s horrifically individual:
laden with every emotion imaginable,
long lasting in its effects.
later, there was no “we” to walk
out through the woods, just me and a
very tired set of thoughts,
endlessly mulling the same details —
