Afterward

I hadn't wanted her to turn toward me when she
Set off to board her plane, but she did turn
And tore my heart, and I drove home a man
In grief and pain. I cried, and nearly sightless,
Drifted, lost, from lane to lane. I'm lucky to have
Made it back, I guess, but home was dark
And quiet, without warmth. I couldn't sleep.
I paced, and waited for the hour when she'd
Land, and I could call her. Finally, I heard
Her voice. She did her best to comfort me,
But she said she'd known that I'd suffer
When she turned toward me.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 71 times
Written on 2018-03-03 at 03:36

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