And if it ends here
With the sun and moon
In their contra dance
I’ll only ask that you
Pick flowers for me
Any kind will do
Place them in a vase on the table
And watch them wilt and die
The way our marriage has
When they’re nothing more
Than mere kindling
Set the remains on fire and
Let the smoke wash over you
Like a gray ghost
With nowhere else to go

# # #

Len Kuntz is a writer from Washington State, an editor at the online magazine Literary Orphans, and the author of I’M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE AND NEITHER ARE YOU out now from Unknown Press. You can also find him at http://lenkuntz.blogspot.com

Photo credit: Terri Malone