Last Meeting

You asked if we could meet again and I
thought, Yes, why not? Let’s rake the cooling ash
of past romance, and see if sparks still fly.

We met beneath the bridge – I watched you dash
across the road the way you always had.
My heart maintained its steady beat, no mad
wild thuds to take my breath. I touched your hand,
but no - no ringing bells, no lightning flash.
Your dreams crashed then, I know, I felt them crash.
We kissed, and then stepped back – it was a bland
and gentle kiss, a sad thing to have done.

That ash we raked was barely warm, yet we
once burned with heat enough to singe the sun!
We said goodbye, and wept at being free.