a fearful child.
“I know you have
to go. But I don’t
know how to let
you. So just go.”
The Door Closes
behind him.
I pretend he’s
just gone to
the kitchen.
I worried all
last night. I’m
all worried out.
All smoked out.
All talked out.
Sleep hovers,
just there, and
I reach for it so
I won’t hear the
girls’ good-byes,
the Mustang’s rev,
the tink-tink of its
chains against
the pavement.
Chains against
the icy pavement.
Chains against
the snow. It’s
snowing, I think.
Snowing in my