“This could be the last time—”
By Olivia Gwyn
That’s what my dad said on the best night of the year,
so I guess I’ve always been waiting for the end
Always people are leaving and happiness is ending
and enjoy it while it lasts is just
grief wrapped up in a pretty bow
I’ve always believed this curse
and it’s always proving me right
At least until you
Not breaking the curse, but
you, staying, staying
It’s a miracle to have someone who
is never bored with you, listening, looking at you, laughing with you
You rub my hand so gently with your split thumb
I could cry
I was alone and then there was you
You’ve never left as the birds migrate and the crickets die out, the frogs grow quiet, the morning doves call through the trees
Death is a distant thought silhouetting you
pointing out the sunset,
our daughters feet in the grass
You can’t believe her
And I can’t believe you,
the way your eyes light up after all these years
The crickets a soundtrack of time, leaving, forgotten
