The end,
when it came, wasn’t catastrophic
No lightning
and thunder, no angry howls
No hungry wolves out on prowls
A few drops
of sadness skidding down cheeks
Helpless, as
an abandoned babe
Betrayed by
arms meant to protect
To cherish
and nurture, to hold dear
A wound that
won’t bleed carries pain
Like an old
battle scar, mostly dormant
Yet throbbing
to life at indecent times;
Rewind,
rewind to a more pleasant clime
Hold hands
and dance with partners you find
Endings are beginnings invading life
For ends,
when they come, aren’t catastrophic.
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