I am thinking of unfinished business, <br />of songs that I can no longer <br />bear to hear the ends of, <br />poems scribbled on scraps <br />of paper that trail away <br />to great blank spaces <br />at the bottom of the page, <br />my aura, if I have one, <br />dimmed by distance and confusion <br />and uncertainty, <br />my chakhras, if there are such things, <br />in disorder, <br />nothing at all <br />properly concluded <br />since I left the thought <br />of spending the rest of my life <br />with you <br />filed away among other fantasies, <br />the stuff of dreams and daydreams, <br />unfinished.<br /><br />Don McWilliams<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/unfinished-business-9/
