Women and war

Walk under foot,
under me, and understand
that I cannot play the violin anymore--
the strings are cut and I am
cut. And you should not be here so late--
drinking and smoking, and telling
stories of then. I was a girl, you were
a girl, and we thought we were
women. No doubt that the war played
its part in our parting, but we cannot blame
all on men. Death and change were indeed
everywhere, and our love was not safe from
those blasts. Perhaps we needed the change,
the distance, to teach us how to grow older and not
feel badly about it. It is difficult to explain what
was happening internally at that time, it was so
long ago. But I will say three things:
I am no longer angry with you, I do not wish
for you to stay, and I am still learning
what it is to be a woman-- in war and out.