The small goodbyes surprise me with their tears
After all these years when they still stand
There in the driveway, crossing air with prayer
For my safe drive. Who knows? The news still echoes
Of taken girls, their bodies dumped like rocks.
But that’s not why I’m scared. These weekends, leaving
That old gray house, the one where I grew up,
I can’t look back because, with every trip,
It’s less and less my home. They watch me leaving
And now I know the tears are for my grieving.
