The Last Time
I looked out at the view I had seen so many times before.
Breathtaking sunsets, flourishing blooms of spring,
Tantalizing colors of fall that stroked the top of the tree lines,
Across my vast office window.
It is ironically perfect that the day is dreary and filled with rain.
Cleaning out, throwing away discarding all the memories,
Of work done hard over the course of time.
It is a melancholy moment for me,
Thoughts of projects, meetings and programs,
All discarded quickly into a shredding bin
That seemed to take a part of me away as well.
I do not cry about the past, for these words are my tears.
My writing speaks and feels and emotionalizes for me.
Goodbye, farewell, so long, for this is the last time.
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