After It All

For days, my sad heart
has prolonged happiness.
Waiting through the prologue
for the epilogue--
hoping for help to come.

Like a deserted station
waiting for the next wave of transients.

The full heart waits for a joke,
and this season's leaves rot.

For days, my sad heart
has prolonged happiness.
Waiting through the prologue
for the epilogue.

In the autumn the nights are long.
The new mornings dark and still
and not yet ready.

After it all,
after all the mornings and all the nights,
after all the seasons and all the years,
my sad heart has waited patiently.

Once frozen, once sprung to life,
once inflamed, and once fallen.

After it all, after prolonging happiness,
it has settled
where it cannot be touched--
deep in a woods
where snow blows off the trees
and covers every footprint.