At the End of the Tour
At the End of the Tour
David J Walker
We would never have survived the poverty
Of the poets poetry
Nor the selling of souls for papered wealth
The death and rebirth and growth
from distant worlds
Abandoning the learned language of
Specific lovers and the invention of
Nuances waisted on foreign ears
Still
I loved you like the duty of a soldier
On foreign soil
I loved you with limited time intimidated
By the clock I forgot to wind
I loved you because the air you breathed
Tasted of the words of your foreign tongue
I loved you somehow knowing
The flag I was baring
Must be folded and put away
At the end of the tour
I loved you until our vehicle
Ran out of gas
And we both walked home
Alone
In different directions
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