July 4 Anniversary

Chrysanthemums of light blaze bright and die

Flash color through the dull Manhattan sky,
Winking out, the embers lose their fire
Unlike my love for you, nor my desire.
Only now learning the woman next to me
Would be your lover soon—I did not see
That like the dying cinders high above
My self would be extinguished, like your love.
With nothing left behind but acrid smoke,
Gunpowder grit like ashes when you spoke—
Just one month later you set yourself free:
You said, This isn’t working for me.
Was she waiting for you with open arms,
Her settled life, her tarnished charms?
While I suffered the echoed cannonade
Deaf to reason, feeling lost, betrayed,
I moved with no emotion toward the knife
Though you had days before taken my life.

© 2010 Max Gordon