At the wayside

we find things like our old promises
some were hits, and some were misses.
I see our commitment to the morning swim
the whole regimen started and ended on a whim.
that friendship we both thought could persist
but did the connection ever really exist?
i come across that key to your chest
promising never to open it like it was some test.
Then I see you, with a question across your wrinkled brow
and despite the truth, i ask, "What do we do now?"
Our sighs fill the air like two cheap perfumes
and your engulfing silence tells me volumes.
I continue my own trip, but you stay,
for the time is getting late and my thoughts stray.
the melting sun says all's lost, but can be found
Because at the wayside, it's all just on the ground.