“Later doesn’t always come” those words struck me today
Home from work
Sitting in LA traffic
Under a graying sky.
Would you be? Could you be? Alive in another place? Will I see you later?
Because our “later” here will never come
and I grieve that.
There’s no tomorrow for us
No “I’ll talk to you later”
No more Beau and Bowie sitting on our purses
As we got ready for work –
Our Parallels- –
Where we were connecting. Were.
We were connecting. “Later doesn’t always come” later is never for us
Memories are not powerful enough to overcome the Grief – The Great Sadness – of my future losses.
Nothing…nothing can replace this future
Now left only in my head
For my magical thinking to transform the start of something into the best of us…