she waits for me--so far ahead

I can barely make out her speck on the horizon--

she didn't have to do this--

I wish I hadn't put her up to it--

but she accepted and I felt a fool--

she showing more fortitude than I did making the choice

in a venture that could only end in qualification--

oh the unrealistic faith we place in ourselves

when we think love will carry us through a move

and a new life as easily as we made our promises to ourselves--

well I'm not in this alone--

and neither is she--

and even a bit of the feeling of adventure has returned--

a feeling of our younger energy is surging

through the aged experience to put a knowing half-smile

on every new manifestation of a common situation

we'd faced before in life--but even more "oh what the hell"

about it than when we were younger--

we always knew the stakes are high--always high--

but where we once saw our lives ahead of us--we now look behind

and know we could be gone at any time--

so now we move forward--not without the occasional lapse

into "shit--why did we do this?"--but on the other hand--

we really--on second thought--had not much choice--

the world we'd known is long passed--and the sociopathic

bipeds who rule this one are easy to fool--but you must be swift

on your feet--they can be vicious when they realize their sense

of entitlement has been mocked--they'll lose their world

in their due time--but I don't care about them--I care about

her and me--and other stumbling old renegades on the--trot--

(damn it) as we head for a brief home we can as yet only imagine--

a way station (maybe even on some metaphysical level--

a "weigh" station--) there to wait out our years

and what will come of them--

her speck grows larger--I'm gaining on her--she waits--

we will be together before nightfall...

Content (c) 2008-2011 Philip Milito.