Quarter Century Man

What you whispered on peach sticky Junebug porches
And promised on the steamy lakes of glass
It was the coward's way
The seasons cycled with your love
Your plans prematurely postponed
(You did this) whisper the trees
Empty clang
Died with falling foliage mutilated

Now
In winter rivaling __
Intentions derelict
Forever etched
In your bosom
On her grave
All the things she left unsaid
The assumed prophecies you long to hear

Every morning
You spray your seductive regret cologne
Fester. Bleed. Undress.
Thumbing the rosary of Forget
Your nighttime basis

Yet you
Even you
As the trees stripped of foliage
As the dying fawns and the frozen rivers

You, too, can be restored