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.