Tonight I will write the saddest lines
as Neruda did ages ago
when the blue stars shivered
in his shattered night
I shall write as the moon
weeps upon mine.

We were shadows of past sunsets
ripples made by the tendrils of time
we were a great divide
meeting at the junction
somewhere in the back of my mind

Tonight I write without regret
as waves crash down upon the distance
my hand reaches out to wipe the shores
of promises written on the sand

I write without regret
there is no regretting the truth
that we were shadows of past sunsets
the suns of aging youth

I was her times before
She is this tonight and 'morrow
We- she or I
will never be once more

Tonight I wrote the saddest lines
of some love lost but not to another
with the sky hanging thick
broken by silence
the quiet cry of the lonesome

It is not that grandeur gone
left too big an abyss
it is not that glory days
without would be too missed
It is not that the blue stars
are now just old light

I regret not a thing...
it is just that
Once upon a time
we were once upon a night.