Rosemary Leaving
Time to go?
So soon it seems.
Despite the decades of (un)necessary decorum and disguise,
no place to hide.
But there’s unfinished business!
Well, there’s always business
Incomplete, undone.
Those canvases
leaning against the wall,
For one.
And sketches in a thousand (so it seems)
Notebooks, journals, scraps of paper
Between the pages.
Notes to Self, undone.
What you (were) meant to do.
So, so meaning to.
Now, Rosemary’s leaving
On the high tide of relief
And unrequited circumstance.
It’s a midnight ride.
The A-train to the other side.
The heartache left behind with
A suitcase of dithers and doubts,
Always packed & ready to follow.
But not this ride.
Not this most propitious time.
It’s you alone.
And on the other side, I know
You will pick up the forgotten traces.
Rewind the tapes.
Splice in new scenes and implications.
Make a new determination, or two.
Lay down another track.
Hum a new, a better tune.
And paint, for sure.
So, post a memoir on the deep akashic memorex,
For others, and for Your Self
To find again.