one day

one day it came to pass.

i would never see my youths reflection, again

it was that little known result of Y2K

young love, could no longer happen

as sure as late life menopause

will no longer bear new life.

my youth escaped me

like a thief at night

only to awaken

to see death near by

and no obstacle to block its path or slow it down

alone, no ones hand to hold

no one reaching out to me

only death to beckon me

the loss of life, causes me no hard will

the lost of opportunity is it

no more loose end to tie-up

no more woman to admire

no more time to give reason for admiring me

no more paintings or sculptures to take pride in

no more kaluah and milks, smooth seduction

the warm feeling of that Mary draw, that deep inhale

that smile, when she spoons backward

and that welcome response

the world was mine

sweet girl, she never knew