When you said this year was going to be different I thought
you were just making conversation.
When you told me about the yoga classes
and how it was all his idea,
I thought you were just poking fun.
It was later, after the passage of several weeks
and the unreturned phone calls
that it finally occurred to me what you meant.
This year would, in fact, be like the year before last,
which is to say a year without me in it.
So you are back in the old world from before,
where you used to live in apparent contentment,
and I hope that you can do that again.
Yes, I am sure, this is what I wish for you,
the waters of your life unsullied by the ripple after I had
thrust my hand into them.
Imagine, though, how foolish I felt when I realized,
quite too late, that I had missed the opportunity
to return the sentiment when you
tried to say goodbye.
Don McWilliams
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/this-year-is-going-to-be-different/
