Transitions

It isn’t like walking out of one room
and into another… this transition
from would be lover to friend
or even best friend. After all,
isn’t the holy grail to be best friends
and lovers?

Still. It will transpire. Not
as morning fog quickly fades
beneath the rising sun,
but perhaps, as slowly
as the seasons  change.
A summer of naked hope, doesn’t
find itself  suddenly dressed for winter.

When the music stops, there is no elegant way to
dance away from rejection.  Not with the steps
from wall to open floor still so  memory-fresh.
Allow for some clumsiness as we retreat,
unchoreographed, from the floor.