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November 28, 2016 / hbrowne4

“You couldn’t miss me now” by Joan Healy

I miss you like

I missed chicken pox.

Ours was not a song of love,

But only a love of loss.

 

In falling in love

We missed each other

And in letting go

Missed one another.

 

For when we fell,

We fell far under

It was not God-made

So it was put asunder.

 

It was not kind,

It was not sweet

It was not blessed

It was not meek.

 

If our love was a child

We would have sold it to see

How little it meant

To the world and not just to you and me.

 

And when you retire

To your rocking chair

Like my Maude Gonne

With your graying hair.

Take down the old LP

Of the song you think you wrote to me.

That was not me in your memory,

It was sadness linked your unchained melody.

Romance alone brought no harmony,

But I flipped the record of the old LP

To see we didn’t find love,

 

But I found me.

 

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