Pearls, beads, and wisdom

My final farewell is watching

the work of a known artisan -

the beads threaded on a string,

the silk knotted after each one.

I dither over a pendant - 

it seems somewhat expensive

ultramarine with dark accents

left matte by the gem-smiths.

He sees me drop the item,

“Madame, don’t look so upset,

there is always a next time

for reworking stones and budgets.”

I pay for what I’ve purchased

and quietly leave the old shop;

For me there will be no next,

no rewrites, the time is up.