I have sucked the marrow of sadness
from the bones of broken relationships.
I have been thirsty for love that vanishes
like a water mirage in the distant heat.
This is the desert of advancing age,
where the slippery sands of past decisions
shift and glide beneath my feet,
and regret, like a scorpion, skitters and stings.
The horizon is open, boundless and humbling.
The sun is shining, merciless and bright.
The skeletons of past love and conquest
lay bleached by the burning white orb.
The days stretch into distant forever,
and nights are bitter, cold, and silent.
Still, I am alive, so I press onward;
lost, perhaps, but determined to survive.
So I suck the marrow of sadness
from the bones of broken relationships,
and take from that meager nourishment
the strength I need to finally make it home.