I stroll out to the pier
to watch the ferry
sail
a ritual I previously reserved
for my Tuesday visits
here
now set free from my
shackles
so I can come every day
so in the fumes of
the ferries wake
I feel the loss, the
pain
the empty space
where she still
haunts
even though she is
not
graced this place in
years
I stare out at the
skyline
against which the ferrys fade
and dream of better
things
fulfillment or contentment
knowing what I wish
for most
is not possible
regardless of how often
I click my heels
it's not being home without her
her vanquished
a memory of a memory
none of which is real
all that remains is
the aftermath, the fumes
of that which has
passed
it will not mean the same
not returning
I sit on this dock
and watch the water churned up
ferries fading and
know she is going
and won't come back
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