And So What Shall We Say?

And so what shall we say

here at the end of day,

Here at the cold of fiery dusk

Before extending our feet

and hands

toward the hearty

crackling hearth?

The fire that blazes there

used to be

between

us

but has cooled

like the surface of

the moon,

and seems to have

fallen

down a crater

of its own making.

And so what shall we say?

‘Goodbye’ seems too trite.

‘Farewell’ is too polite.

And ‘so long’ has become

‘too long.’

Perhaps we shouldn’t say

anything.

And kiss.

© Alfred W. Smith Jr.  2015