Sunset of We

Pacific Island,
Elongated beach,
Sapphire water
Pinkish sand,
Chubby bare legs
Of bucket-toting children,
Catching my eye.

Shimmering.

I choose to remember
That day,
The smell of salt;
No hint of rain.
We were so
Elegant then,
Lacquered pacific lunch box,
On a teakwood deck,
Amber iced tea,
Exotic ginger in a vase,
Hypnotic sea breeze,
Twisting fortune,
The belief you loved me
That I deserved your love,
That it could last forever
Floating effortlessly overhead.

I did not expect then
That I would fail us, destroy us,
With the formidable force
Of an unborn, ill-conceived baby
Of the female imagination.
And I did not expect that you
Could deny me something
Of such importance
With such ease.

After that,
We traveled alone.

Now we are older;
Not so elegant.
None of it really matters,
But it still stings.