yesterday's fire

 
 
 
it’s been years since we danced that dance  
 
story came to an end like they usually do;  
fire burned down to mediocre heats  
 
never been the type to hold fast to dying light  
so told my story walking  
 
gone baby gone  
 
don’t think of her much  
too many come and gone  
to give thought to any particular tune  
 
not what the romantics like to hear  
but if you aren’t the heat in the room  
if you aren’t the compass of my blood  
then you are worse than yesterday  
no juice no joy  
 
this morning  
was looking through my journal  
sitting quiet  
working out the way the day would play  
 
turned to a new page  
and on it a hand written note  
 
remembered how she would do that  
would write notes to me  
in the one book  
she knew I’d come back to  
would pick a page somewhere in the future  
write to me  
 
I used to like it  
thought it showed something  
more than optimism  
 
the note said  
“remember to call your girlfriend  
and buy her a great big present”  
 
I laughed  
remembered the good bits of her  
and there were plenty  
but never did call her enough  
 
picked up my phone  
scrolled through it  
don’t even have her number anymore  
 
and never did get around  
to buying her  
that present