Seven with Steven

No more
the bitter taste
of sour grapes and hardened cheese
of “What a waste,”
and “How you please.”

You kept the car,
you kept the house,
you kept the dogs, the art, the friends
I left a mouse
without amends.

And though I miss
the house and hounds
the greenhouse where I spent the hours
I have no grounds
for what was ‘ours’.

No more
the salted cries
of double lives, of truth and lies -
just past regrets
and old goodbyes.