Fragments And Reflections

Melancholic Reflections After Wine

I have lost count, Love,

Of these perfect evenings,

Fine wine and good food seasoned with

Brahms and Finzi, accompanied by talk and

Laughter at the week's absurdities

And a silent melancholy at intentions

That stumbled as the days marched by.

Was it hubris led me here, to this plot

Made in the earth of so many empty years,

In which lie those naïve resolutions deferred

By tomorrow's promises of new beginnings?

And is it time, Love, wearied by these

Faltering thoughts and fraying memories,

Steeped in notes of black cherry and vanilla,

Cold ash where once fires blazed,

To put out this dimming light?

Is it time, Love, to step forward,

To go quietly into that unknown night,

Untrammelled by the burdens of expectation

That we hang upon our base desires,

To take that dark path to longest rest?

Is it time, Love?

Is it time?

8th March 2015