Author Information
The Spring of Discontent
A man died in my dreams last night
He perished thinking
The woman he loved dearly
Cared little for he in return
A heart attack, his end last night
Or the doctors in my head said
His heart did stop
But not for any medical reason
This man told himself late last night
That to go on
Would be true folly
Chasing the ghost of a soul still alive
He thought only of her, last night
And how she'd be disappointed
For stopping his heart this way
But he knew he'd done what he wanted to do
He wrote one letter last night
And told her what
He'd left behind
A life for her
What he would have given her anyway
His completeness
A part of her happiness
Were he there to see it
There to share it
It would have taken longer
Been sweeter
The hand-built cabin
Lost in the woods
He gave her the key
With a yellowed map
Not yellowed with age
But she'd like the effect
A place for joined solitude
For her to share
An improbable set of
Mischevious Swiss numbers
A whole different nest
With a variant on egg
And wrapped up in a corpse of a book
His book
The story of his life
As he wanted her to see it
What he prayed she had been there for
So she would know
So he'd somehow share
His life with her
Just how he always wanted.
And so
Though he died alone
There were no
Regrets.
