Separate

He was married to Life--
Unhappily,
But he waited
Til the kids were grown.
Then he sought a separation
From the Life
That he had known.

The dark mistress
Called to him
With promise,
To drown his woes
In seas of black.
And so he struggled
To gain that passage,
And he will not
Be coming back.

And did one soul
Bid him Farewell?
Did he call to say
That his departure
Was at hand
And he was on his way?

Or does Labor wait to squeeze
Wednesday's child
Unto the earth,
As Time and Pain
Who wait for none,
And one must hasten
To his birth?

But Friend,
Be friendly to your brother.
Brothers all,
And sisters, we,
And row the same boat down the stream,
Merrily,
And unmerrily.

-jenn long