Solitare in Bb

When she sent me away
I cinched my belt tight,
pulled down my hat and
drove 200 horses down
to the lake shore and
idled there a long while
on the seawall, alone
in silence, with the birds.

The waves were small
but relentless, slapping
at the land’s edge until
I felt its pain, and at last
I laughed because I was
no longer numb, laughed
until the birds fled.
Solitude suited me.

When the gray day
turned moonlit and grim
and the clouds refused
to give up their rain
I watched the parked lovers,
cars rocking gently over
the water like boats and
cried because the sky would not.