What Then?

Dragonflies and fireflies, days and nights, tiny airborne cavaliers alight, battling currents and eddies and rays of light. Rainbows and echoes and shadows and dew, residues and memories, too many and too few, lovers that were but shouldn’t have been, others better left where they’ve never been.

Dawns and dusks, twilight, blues fading, darkening changing to oranges and pinks, then darkening to indigo; days and nights flow into each other, too many one year, too few the next; memories drift, sometimes too old but usually too new. How not to have loved her back then when I could.

I didn’t though and wonder why; now that it’s safely too late. Or did I?

Salty swells topped with foam swim in and out under the stars depositing discarded shells on a beach somewhere, the water a bit chilly and dark now. No moon casts its reflection. Clouds flow in and out, sometimes slowly, almost hovering. Footprints on sand slowly wash away.

Pelicans, frugal and wise take flight. Why didn’t I? Or did I? Memories play more and more games.

Is it confusion or merely allusion or perhaps, just self-induced delusion seeking to seem wise. Samwise. I wonder how that appellation came to be, whether wisdom played a part or, as in my case, whether collusive coincidence just happened to canter in to save the day. Did it though I ask? Not sure whether I mean cantered in or saved the day. How not to have loved her back then when I could.

I didn’t though and wonder why; now that it’s safely too late. Or did I?

Stanzas in, stanzas out, truth, ephemeral bordering on the ethereal, or is it the other way around. Does it matter and if so, why? And if not, why not? Why here and now or then and when? Or better yet, why or why not?

Queries are not always just sweet little oddities.

What then?
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© Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Manizales, 2016; all rights reserved