September Sunset

I visited that old spot again.
Do you remember
where it was?
I took you there once;
a dusty white bench
overlooking a small pond.
We sat there
that brisk September evening
listening to the wind blow
as our eyes caught the last rays
of the golden purple sunset.
The quiet chattering
of the emerald mallards
in gentle tandem
of the splashes those red-eared sliders made
as they climbed out onto the cool bank.
I told you that I was not ready
for you
for us
and I knew then and there
that moment
was the beginning of the end
for us
for you
and for me.
I could almost hear
the smooth notes of your laugh
ring inside my mind
as you pretended you didn’t care.
But you did,
didn’t you?

Didn’t you?


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