AfterAlone

Sitting here alone

Staring into what’s

Left of a

Martini thinking recalling

Moving the olive

Around the rim

Unaware of the

Sounds around me

Hearing only your

Voice your words

Please don’t go

Sitting here wondering

Why did you

Wait to say

That until I

Was already gone

Now I understand

Why the leaves

Of Autumn miss

The summers sun

Left with only

One thing to

Do they go

And be anything

Else besides this