A Question of Goodbye
I can’t breathe when I say goodbye.
It empties my lungs, the way I empty
my head so sleep fills the void.
It empties the sky of light, darkness
filling the straight sides of my circle.
Should I say goodbye when I pass
someone in the stairwell?
But when does goodbye end?
Is it when a person is gone from sight?
Does it stop when that person
slips from your waking thoughts.
When they’re gone a week, a year.
Or is it forever? When someone
you love dies, when do you stop
saying goodbye. Never?
I scribbled a note. Stuck it on the fridge.
You napped in your chair, and I wrote ….
I left you sleeping. Gone for a walk while
the sun still shines. Love you. Bye. xx
But that’s not really goodbye, because
I knew I’d come back to you in a bit.
Back in time to cook the next meal,
to see the clock tick off the next hour.
And when will it be our next goodbye…
This is the end of another inspired month with Miz Quickly. Day 28 Miz Quickly’s “That Time Again” © Misky 2021