I think I was sent there by someone other.
I would never have gone on my own.
I wouldn’t have known who else to look for.
As a matter of fact, I was done.
Sixteen years, stuck to a marriage –
committed, honest, four-square.
And when it was over, I thought it was over.
For me, anyway, there was no more.
And when it was over, I was all over.
There was a great loss to that war.
I had just settled in hibernate Zen,
and getting all set for the long one.
And you came along – how could I forget?
I wasn’t the one the one acting forward.
I had just settled for deep hibernation,
when you broke up all my slumber.
I was just thinking that this too shall all pass –
a logical progression, just like the others.
But then, again, it had to have been,
it had to have been all your mother.
And when it was over, you wanted me over;
it was me, you wanted to woo.
I think I was sent here by someone other;
I couldn’t have come on my own.
I’d settled in, back to my cave,
for the long one, all over, alone.
And when it was over, we both would discover
that we two were lovers, atoned,
of married transgressions, each one enslaved;
from which we were burned to the bones.
©2013, Marvin Loyd Welborn
15 June 2013