The Golden Gate

Coming to the end of the year, I have a few thoughts in passing.

This is to my wife, in the hope she will find reason and peace. It seems she will not, at all costs, agree to a divorce. Neither will she move forward. My girl is sacrificed somewhere in the middle.

Depleted by his pain, he slowly
Walks to Jan's desk. What did not last
In life has now possessed him wholly.
Nothing can mitigate the past.
He gently touches Jan's sand dollar.
It soothes him in the ache, the squalor
That is his life, and she seems near
Him once again, and he can hear
Her voice, can almost hear her saying,
"I'm with you, John. You're not alone.

Trust me, my friend; there is the phone.
It isn't me you are obeying.
Pay what are your own heart's arrears.
Now clear your throat, and dry those tears."


Vikram Seth- The Golden Gate. (last page of a VERY long poem)