Valentine Blues

Valentine Blues
Again the calendar marked with a black rose,
this high holy day for lovers, this business feast
of chocolates, tears squeezed from a lemon heart.
Ouch, the wound says, then cringes, embarrassed
like a poet applauded for work he knows to be sub-par
This is old pain. Shouldn’t hurt like a love letter,
should feel cozy like a good book at bedtime,
a blanket snug to the chin. No snores but mine.
There’s an old wedding video I could watch.
I could pretend it’s Halloween and put on the ring.
I’m pretending I’m a married person today,
I’m a got-something-to-live-the-next-forty-years-for
person today, I’m smiling at these words today,
hoping I’m not serious, afraid that I’m afraid.


THE REST OF IT GOES HERE