THE  EPILOGUE

It seems like, for us now

this somber epilogue of our story

is way w-a-y longer

                        ... than our story;

there is so much rubble to sift through

after those

               few troubled words from you.

They landed like an

                               earthquake

or a volcano of some proportion,

creating a crater too large

for any curator to fill with agony

or with stoic emotions,*

for the crucible of heart is a solitary,

very lonely private place.

It is not

            a museum for shy emotions.

Since that evadable day**

my heart now knows

the chill of remorseless

                      Siberian winter winds

in all the seasons.

My dear friend, forgive me

                                   my emotions !

                    -------

                                    -- Vijay Nikore

                                        April 28, 2013; 11p.m.

*   but not the least of anger or blame

**  evadable, for it did not have to be so.