End.

Sunlight on the back of my neck, too warm,
But the shade too cool to crawl back to;

Ring stains – a marriage of coffee to table,
As I intrude with my books of wrinkled words;

Threaded gold in a patchwork quilt of leaves
Sews summertime into my smile.

Shrug off your shadows,
Renounce your divorces,
My friend.

Time is too precious to burn into dust
And love is too sacred to turn into lust.

We'll get there in the end.