Rewritten

Do we rerite these moments

as finales -

memoirs composed

solely of farewell

each meeting

a prelude to an ending

every hello

the advance warning

of goodbye.

If I could craft a life

based on what could be,

not what is,

I'd take away the finish line

tangle the strings

until no one could separate

or leave

interlaced

twisted together

the way life and lives

should be.

A locking puzzle

with no solution

the freedom pieces

welded together at first meeting.

I'd collect all the helicopters

from one maple tree

and let them grow up together

so close

branches entwine

and trunks crush together

twisting upwards as one unit

to a brilliant sun

while below the earth

their roots hold hands.

If I could rewrite the laws

of this cosmos

I'd let the good memories

never die

and keep the bad ones

from taking root

I'd cross out all the

disappointing moments

cancel reality checks

and throw out the towel

so no one could throw it in.

I'd make more time

for the seconds that count

and decrease the wait

between one moment

and the next.

There would be overtime compensation

for waiting on someone good.

No budget for your happiness,

or his

or hers

or theirs -

and especially not ours.

Everything's in,

anything goes -

the sort of deal

shop-aholics orgasm over.

But with life

not clothing

and unnecessary furniture.