Here at the end of the hours

bereft that all is done and dusted

(well, no, I desperately need to dust)

over, finished, kaput, completed.

(climbing out of Roget’s)

A time of wonder, now part of the patina on

this memory palaces room’s walls.

New co-conspirators,

traveling companions on this absurd

journey of pursuit of poetry.

Crazy and yes, you can be assured I shall

do it all again one day.

Finally now, to go,

spend time reading what others shared,

being moved, and humbled, I am certain.

What a ride!

Thank you, each of you

for the memories.