In wicker willow careless flight

You flit below me in the light

I strike a match, set forth the lamp

You butterfly to void the stamp

Of leaden boot weighed down in shame

Forsaking me, my heart, my name

Flight of fancy, gossamer pest

I shall never find my rest

A broken skull of glass shard bone

This never ever was a home

For me, for you, for us

Forgotten

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I wanted to memorialize a marriage that ended almost 20 years ago. There was many things wrong with it – on both sides. My behavior, hers – I look back now and see how both of us were to blame. Poorly matched, I am glad to be free. And happy.