No tears today; they’ve been spent
in yesterday’s quiet lament.
The red vinyl is ready, its insides filled,
its zippers shut. Everything was quite still
when I held you last in my arms,
like a daughter sometimes does her mum,
for a moment free of any of life’s harms.
Then, in those silent seconds, the tears did come.
Now we say some new goodbyes,
hold each other in arms and eyes.
We wonder what one more day would bring
what today would be like if men never grew wings.
But the zippers are all closed; the insides all are full.
The morning always comes too soon,
but our lives are never dull:
I’ll be in another state by noon.
I promise there’s no need to fear;
I’ll return within the year
to see how you change and grow,
never to be a girl you used to know.
The poet was quite wrong who said
there was anything sweet in sorrow.
As Moses’ staff parts me ahead,
only verses on sadness will I borrow.