Sometimes, getting dumped is a good thing

Dear G.
for 1970

I meant to write you sooner, but our nights
are just as busy as our days. We find
small pleasures, and take them to such heights
the altitude confounds the mind.
This evening we walked along the harbor–lights
that span the bridge are like a strand of pearls
across the greatest river in the world.

I believe there is no place as grand
as my Florida. G., you should know, I met
my husband here. He rummaged through sand
and dug me up, giving birth to this duet
that’s lasted 20 years, and I’ll bet
it’ll go 20 more at least. So, G.,

Since you were the lone assailant of my heart,
for making me an epithet for misery,
for infidelity you sculpted into art,
for walking out, citing your complete ennui,
Thanks. Your deceit sent my true love to me.

--Kay B. Day

--from the book A Poetry Break (Ocean Publishing,2004)