One Way

I can’t reseal a grape once it’s been skinned,
Put squozen toothpaste back into its tube,
Convene confetti scattered to the wind,
Or disentangle flavors that have stewed.
I can’t unshuck an ear of corn, nor cleanse
a bagel from all trace of schmeer, refleece
Shorn sheep, unshred discarded documents,
Regather ashes sprinkled on the seas.
There is no use crying over milk that’s spilt
(It only makes it salty for the cat).
And if you cross a bridge of sighs full tilt
It burns itself — there is no going back,
So when you wink, be careful what you do:
I doubt I could fall out of love with you.

Guy L. Steele Jr.
 

 
Marc Chagall, The Lovers of Venice