they sit in the corner
gathering dust
now and then
i brush it off
i peer at it
admiring how it once looked
and sometimes
it looks as though it were
alive again
though after a moment
i recall
this is a dead thing
its time has passed
however beautiful it once was
it has lost its luster,
its good health,
and laid itself
in the path of death
ready to end it all.
perhaps it was the will of
nature
or god
maybe just fate.
maybe the love itself was tired
and lost its will to live.
quite possibly
it was one of us,
or both
that coerced it into the road,
that allowed its passing.
maybe we knew
this would never result
in something sustainable
somethi