Edward Iacona

(August 27,1948 / Brooklyn, New York)

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Asunder

As I walk the dog each night, I stare into the sky.
The stars alone bear mute witness to my daily weary sigh
I still ask the heavens of what went wrong to love that went awry.
And I think of the things we could have done but she would not even try.

Writing rhymes about our problems is a great temptation.
No matter our marital pitfalls there was a promise of dedication.
Heartbreak and richer lawyers are the only education
True soul mates who have broken bonds are a sad aberration.

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