You did tell me,
right from the beginning
of that last conversation
that lasted several weeks,
you were about to die and
you wanted to make amends
before you did
for the insanity of our teenage years
and that last, soul-destroying betrayal.
I thought you meant that you had a
condition, injury, or disease that was
impacting your quality of life,
in the very last contact,
you told me
you were committing suicide.
I thought you were playing the
same old games, the tiresome manipulations
because you were not getting what you wanted
I stopped the contact.
And then a few weeks later...
No guilt but a quiet thoughtfulness.
What karmic significance was entangled
in our brief contact, your death, and
the craziness that was last weekend?
The scales are balanced again
though I did not know they were
out of balance.
You did. You told me. I thought.
Written for Poets United Midweek Motif, "Watershed Moments", 9/2/15