Chill Evening Mist
He almost said it, that one sweet word, but a moment lost it would not stay.
He reached for her hand, she lost in thought, pulled it back and looked away.
Was she the beauty he had married young, or an illusion from a fairy's joke?
Would the cold chill of the evening mist be waiting for him when he awoke?
Pain in his head and strain in his heart felt like a clock that was losing time.
Time had opened his eyes and he noticed that the long years had taken away her prime.
"Nothing in common" was too late to say for their paths took a divergent route.
Their anger was quiet and their words were sparse for they had nothing to talk about.
He almost said it, that one mean thing, "Perhaps we should go our separate ways".
He held his tongue, she gave a laugh, saying she'd be gone for at least five days.
He was glad she'd be gone and happier still that he would not have to take all her crap.
But the chill evening mist hanging over his head made him see he was caught in a trap.
Copyright © Hilda Greenhough | Year Posted 2024
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