The hot wood beneath my feet

I walked

out on 

the deck,

with my bare

feet.

It was a 

hot August sun.

The wood 

deck was hot

from the 

sun beating

down on it.

It felt good 

under my

feet.

The view 

was beautiful.

You could see

the river and Acres of 

fields

of wild flowers.

You walked 

outside and stood

next to me.

I could

feel it.

I have always

been senstive 

to these things.

You started

to talk and stopped.

we would not

look at each other.

I closed my eyes

and looked

forward and

then I felt 

it.

You left my heart

and it flew so 

fast,

I lost my breath.

Wait, I

said outloud.

You said simply,

Its too late.

We stood in

silence.

You spoke very

calmly,

This doesnt

change a thing.

We can live here.

You got in your

pickup truck and

drove down our dirt

driveway.

My heart 

was dead.

all I could feel

was the heat

under my feet

from the hot

wood,

on the deck.

I lived with you 

another 5 

years.

I left you

on a 

hot August

day, days

before my

40th birthday.

You pleaded

for me to stay.

I stood on that

beautiful

deck overlooking

the river.

What happened 

to us? I whispered.

Only that hot

wood beneath 

my bare feet 

knows all

the secrets

all the mistakes.

I left them

all there.

No need

to bring them

with me.