Long Looks

LONG LOOKS

Often I do not think of her

at all for long periods, go

weeks or months without a stir

or glimpse to jog me back and show

the truth of what we once were -

or rather, weren't. Not to know

Often seems better. Retrospect

is random, arranged to reveal

a favoured theory, erect

a monument of heartbreak, steal

the true power to reject

and use it right. Not to feel

The ache alone, but know the why.

Was it just youth in toxic thrall

or something more? An old lie

or a new one? The leaves this fall

are burnt rainbows. Often I

do not think of her at all.