Mystery

Somewhere there's a soccer game.

I can hear the wild crowd moan.

It's not that life here's distasteful to me

It's just that I'm all alone.

I wanted what took a lifetime to learn.

And that determined then

With no more pause than a sigh

Turn and start again.

It's not that it's such a mystery.

I saw it from miles away.

In time I'll only think of you

When I'm buttering my toast

Or in some other reflexive moment

When I expect the least

Or the most.

It's not the most.

It's not that it's such a mystery

It was practically on display.

We've got "world enough and time"

And "wither youth" comes or goes.

I hope you'll always think of me as "mine"

And not one of those.

It's not that it's such a mystery

This new-found malaise.

It's just that this mystery

Has taken your place.