Villanelle of Memories Yet to be Brewed

You said you would walk me past

The fields imbued with a patina of sunrise and

All those that never last.

 

This morning I strode alone and fast

Down the road pulsating with colors untanned

You said you would walk me past.

 

The burnt sienna of sunset miscast

My own shade as a “someone else” I once demand (ed):

All those that never last.

 

Twilight hit with swaths of violet amassed

Like the painter under the jasmine trees drawing with the wrong hand

You said you would walk me past.

 

Dusk transformed the streetlights into an emerald froth that bypassed

The farewells of daylight written firsthand:

All those that never last.

 

The stars glinted down aghast

At how (to me) your broken promise is a jar tightly canned—

You said you would walk me past

All those that never last.