Goodbye Stranger
When I said there must be another way,
she said sunrise is sunrise is sunrise.
She said wait. She said stop.
When I said I’ve never understood the truth,
she said listen to starshine, listen to Supertramp.
She said there are a million of us all with the fear
of being average, all singing in the shower,
all making acceptance speeches with the hairbrush.
What she didn’t say was never. What she didn’t say
was melody. Thankful curbstone. Russian thistle
growing through the fence. There must be another
way to say the sunrise never equals itself,
that truth depends on a moment. I have waited
for people who never showed up, for old boyfriends
who promised to return. I have stopped believing
in doorbells, in the scent of homecoming. I stopped
believing there must be another way,
that technology = better. Each morning we read
each other our horoscopes. Hers said, Trust is not
a trivial manner & an invitation is coming your way.
What mine didn’t say: There’s a Grammy
with your name on it. There’s a curbstone that trusts
your butt. And the faces that never returned,
they’re quiet, but they think of you often.
