Wandering

 How am I to know

if it was lust, if it was love,

a true wanting or just a thought

before your choice to go?

What am I to do

with all of this for which to yearn

and all the lessons I take to learn

that came from no one but you?

Can I even pick up the pieces

of this heart we know you broke

and the shadows in me that you woke

with an aim that never misses?

Will I ever not feel

either like too much or too little

of a song played in the fiddle

where every string is just left still?

When shall I be the one

without asking, for I choose

and I am the thing they fear to lose

as pillar of shared life and fine home?

13/10/2023