First, I thought it was just jitters,
The pace too breakneck,
Our horses too swift.
Then, I believed your burdened soul
Was simply too spent,
Justifying the downshift.
Next came the holidays, heavy
With obligations aplenty,
And a tenuous rekindled gift.
What followed was foggy. Unclear.
A gloomy, shadowed sky and no
Bridge to span this rift.
