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Poem

It was in the night 
this the time and place
though I still don't know why..
such a night as this
I decided to be out.

Would it be elsewhere and yet
none taking.. 
for her, a quirky girl
left little to doubt
within range of
a vast aching.
 
Along the hedgerow, thickly
grown
and not much less
than eight feet in height.

Beyond the dark an almost endless forest
where moss reclaimed old wars
leaving them forlorn and forgotten
all the while,
the why and wherefore.

What is choice, came a kinder voice
It usually goes without needing be said
never stop in the night, moonless and hopeless.  

I at last return to her.. 
and her broken down
behemoth of a car..

Don't ask that you try
to imagine, or dare a guess at 
the state of woe, 
of the machine in distress.
 
Though I asked so much of it
or at least tried
to gently coax it to the surface
where I could smash it. 

Then the voice said, all serious and low
you don't have to always 
be stoic and maintain a brave
face...

But still
feel
it's admirable of you

and then she was gone..
without a trace.

Do you know what?!?
she meant..
to me?
and the future
I chose
we chose
ours   
to last,
finally. 
sadness left our lives here, with hope.

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