The Tiff, Florence Carlyle, around 1902
you are going away
you are entering new surroundings
you are embracing a new life
you are enamoured with a younger love.
My hope is still
that you will not take too much distance
that we will remain somehow connected
that our door will always remain open
even as you pass through another one.
People cross one another in life
as seasons turn to seasons
there are no clear-cut anythings on this battlefield
spring fights with summer, summer with fall, fall with winter
in a never-ending questioning of the choices we make.
Was this the right person
in the right place
at the right time
or was this a frivolity that, having basked in passion,
would soon be condemned to insignificance?