I remember that day you walked into the kitchen
paused just on the other side of the island
and waited, I think, to see if I would look up
hesitating over your goodbye.

In my mind, I let go of my petty anger
I step around the counter that separates us
tuck you into my heart and keep you
and the day never comes when you give up
and stop hesitating over your goodbyes.

Sometimes I still see you in my rearview mirror
running down a dirt road in the dust from my tires
the fishing pole we buried you with in your hand
and your voice calling out words I can't hear.

In my mind, I stop the car and wait for you
fold you into my arms and and take you away
I save you from the world, but mostly from yourself
and I never have to wonder why you didn't call.

So many things I should have done but didn't.

© Averil Sperry