Love, Drifts.. by Randy Sabatelli
It was still snowing, hard..
hot embers, a fireplace glowed.
She is trying “to discern, impress
and illustrate the fine points of
friendship, including Love, itself-
which so often, drifts, or simply
slips through our fingers, hands,
because”… but he’s already asleep
on her shoulder, by now, and likely,
probably, dreaming of a face, he
glimpsed on the street, yesterday,
an unfamiliar woman, the stranger,
who will replace her, and perhaps
herself, become irreplaceable, though
no words, have yet been exchanged.
And, this day’s wisdom, conversation,
turned-monologue, her thoughtful
discernment, about the mysteries,
of love, friendship, soon- unforgettably
painful, ridiculous, and well, obsolete.