Things look better in the daylight 

Willow trees weep to a water's edge

Once his golden moon was shone down

A gleaming charm on silver lined sky,

His years of glory, eclipsing, rotating, 

My years on hold.

It took decades for my life to unravel. 

And when  it was fully a mess

It was too late to gather up the strings

And make something whole of it again.

I just ran around sighing, unraveled for a while,

Not sure how to handle it.

Then there comes a time when

You are lying awake at three in the morning

And it comes to you. 

You know it, somewhere in the recess of your mind,

That you’re unraveling. 

Then three a.m. turns to eight a.m.

And things look better in the daylight. 

You’re going to be ok. 

You pull your sweater tight against you 

And you go on not noticing the gaping hole.

Golden dust falls by leaves on a  path.

He stopped,

I go on.

Paolo Driussi.