Old Flame

Not knowing she were alive or dead,
I kept her memory sedated
in the three-walled room.

Now I hear she is alive
(though a little arthritic),
and living in Sussex with four cats.

Of course the affair now must cease,
the fantasy cauterized.

I won’t, after all these years,
visit her.

I may write a letter,
with a promise to call one day,
but she will not be there anymore
and nor will I.

poetryfree verse

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