WESTERN WINDOW
From the western window
in my house,
I can see the sunset
bright and red.
The night is setting in
slowly...
and soon he will go to bed.
My suitcase is packed,
I am ready
for an early train.
From the mist that is
falling
on the roses, I could tell
our love is
coming to an end.
Crazy thoughts
are spinning thru my head.
I know if I lie
it will be easier to say good-bye.
Tomorrow...
I'll not call, but let him think
it was not love I felt,
but the poetry he read.
And when the morning
finds him by his bed,
he will find an e-mail
that reads...forgive me please.
I had a change of plans.
I menat to tell you more,
but by the time you read this
I'll be in Baltimore.
