November 28, 1990

127. A Last Poem For shell

Your eyes
     are wat’ring
          with my tears.
The ones I no longer
     wish to hold.
You told me of such
     wondrous colors,
But sometimes they seemed
     only different shades of black.
All you have managed to do
     is erase from my heart
     each word I wrote for you.
Your promises I thought
     were from your heart and soul,
But as I sometimes found,
     the flame of love had grown cold.
And now you call to me
     to see if I still offer the time,
But your colors have faded,
     so you read your final rhyme.

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