Mid-Life Crisis

Two and a half score years
into my allotted
span.
Rootless, restless
loosed too
soon
or too late to re-invent a self.

Lost
to love
the blood still sings to beauty
the heart
still stalks
the ever-elusive dream
of longed-for
unity.

Time to lose
the last tattered
shreds
of a malfeasant past
the drowned dreams of

an empty future.

To be free at last

of this incessant self.