The omega.
The culmination of
a long, creative challenge
doesn’t mean
an anticlimax.


How about a satisfying
A well earned rest?

No more sad haiku
to clip, to stunt with cutting,
meanings long curtailed.

The silliness is
to end with
no bangs
as I’m cut short
no whimpers
as I’ve been squeezed silent
no accolades
as it needed none

but a celebration
as I was blessed with
thirty years of non-solitude
with a woman I love
who likes poetry
not prose
and music
not pop
and cares for me
and the family
more than she can say
and that’s no short essay.

So here’s to the triumph.
Pass me another. Anything.

It is accomplished.


2 thoughts on “Z”

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