63. This is the end

'Tis our final night in Petit Bateau, my sweets. I may write about that in the coming days. But a couple days ago my friend Anna responded to something I said about our last trip to Recloses, something along the lines of, "Why do the good things always have to come to an end?"  So I'm going to write about that tonight.

A friend asked, “Why do good things have to end?”

so I'll try seeking out the truth for her.

Not being wise, I'll need some hands to lend

me help in answering my questioner.

Tim Curry, red and big-horned, said that Light

is unappreciated without Dark,

implying we can't bask in pleasure bright

unless we touched have been by sorrow's mark.

If so, is the reverse, then, also true:

that without joy, we'd never know despair?

Perhaps, but I would rather Joy I knew

despite the price of knowing woe, and care.

If good things have to end, at least they started.

So dwell on that, and don't be broken-hearted.