Leaving

It was a Sunday when I realized
I love you.
It was a Monday when I remembered you were
leaving.
It was a Tuesday when I wrote a poem about you.
It was a Wednesday when I wept.
Thursday came and I carried shame for delighting in the desire to share my fire, without care.
It was a Friday when I set it down and buried it underground,
and it was a Saturday when I said goodbye.

Reviews

[Writer at last! Sky ~]

But soon it would be a Monday again of your love. Don't you believe in second chance Miss Emotion, emo, ions? Love is not just about fights on weekends but years in love spent together for life long ~

[Brad Dehler]

Very morose in the delivery but there is a sense of fragility and human connectedness. Hopefully another has arrived for you, as this one has left.