The truth of a weatherman

On Wednesday,

it drizzled greyly all afternoon

instead of sun filled broken promises

of the weatherman at 6pm yesterday.

Your bags were half-packed

long before you left

haphazard piles on the foot of the bed

with my random black sock

that you really didn’t mean to keep

tucked in alongside

the T-shirt that matches mine

that you never really liked anyway.

I stepped in a puddle

helping you carry the bags to your car

sockless toes growing colder

as I stood in my wet shoes,

smiled, and waved goodbye.

1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Eric
    May 01, 2019 @ 23:49:17

    Wonderful imagery and language—-“instead of sun-filled broken promises”…


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