End Notes

Our favorite world
is almost over –
clock counting down
until it’s gone.

Once,
we had rainy Sundays,
croissants and café au lait
savored over the New York Times,
snuggling together,
spooning so close moonlight
couldn’t slip between our skin.

Now,
we have knife-edged confrontations,
disconsolate tears,
locked doors delineating
the abyss between us,
your attorney meeting mine
during tee time at the club.

Soon,
the judgment shall be decreed,
every line read, finalized,
our signatures placed just so.

And then,
our world will be undone,
no more passage together,
just uncharted roads
we each must travel
alone.