The rain as you left was such a cliche, though we all needed it
You loved yellow - I wished for an umbrella embossed with cheery ducklings
A hair tie & some yellow shoes
Scuffed and tired, though barely worn.
They take your breath with you, the good ones
Weeks of smoke haze did not help -
In the weeks of your letting go, the city in the distance
Covered in the dunnest pall
Earth gasping as the forests burnt.
In my pocket, a rock. Carved by wind over centuries
Scooped from the sand in the Sahara
I wanted to press it into your hand.
Instead, I burrow my thumb into it's sharp edges.
Will you breath with me, when I travel to far away lands?
I'll dip my feet into Ma Ganga for you,
Learn to say I love you in Arabic in Maroc,
Sip ouzo in the Ionian islands, clouded with ice,
And dangle my feet out the car window, with black
Roads ribboning to infinity.
