Had Damon Caught His Sloane

It's too much, too much.  In the pieces, the separate lives, behind guilt, is a glimpse of the balance the whole implied: had Damon caught his Sloane.

"It's too high.  I could die." But said Damon, "I doubt it, child."

"Up, Sloane!  Go, Sloane!" I added, so high she climbed, clutched, and trembled.  

With Damon, below, waiting wide-armed and fully-braced.  Beckoning Sloane, "Time is up--jump! I'm fully-braced."

But then, oh, it went crazy wrong.

Oh, Damon, quiet, calm, collected, resilient, strong.

But, oh, he would break before long, said Damon, "I don't see no need to heal."

I get up.  I get out and get moving; get on with life.  To be old, I know, is to be something, and now that I'm, love is one thing 

that Damon alone knew to give, hold, and hideaway; to treasure as though, as it did, could up and fly away.

When, oh, it went crazy wrong.

Oh, Damon, quiet, calm, collected, resilient, strong.

Oh, but he would break before long, said Damon, "I don't see no need to heal."

Oh, now, it's much too much, to take whole, to sit around and think about it...