He’s out
out the door and down the chute
no looking back
no dawdling or peering over the edge
at the passing scenery
She’s gone
into the garden
walking on blades of fresh glass
unable to return
to party of gin and sobranies
and walking about aimless
They have all gone
leaving the stadium bare
all seats and no cheering
nothing there to get excited over
only the flat breeze juggling
rumpled paper
making room for all the rest
bubbling just below the surface
facing the darkness and its onslaught
with fresh minds and sharp muscles