Seeing You Later

The car was packed, the sun was low the end was drawing near, A journey home, a brand-new start, alas here comes the tears. I hugged you tight and whispered low “ I don’t want to say good-bye”. You chuckled deep and hugged me back. You gave a dad’s reply. You said just “See you later” that would get us through. My husband and new family we drove off to life anew. He was to be the man I would share how many years? He would hold me tight that night I’d drowned in fear. Three years they would pass us by with letters and some calls. Then April Fools you passed away and now I pace the halls. I wonder what I should have said, and if I should have stayed. I wonder if you knew that day what could not be delayed. Good-bye it seems so final, like the slamming of a door, To make progression easier, for me you wanted more. I scan the streets of people so many resemble you, I listen to the wind, and surprise I hear you too. I find comfort in your notion of seeing you again, So passively I surrender to Only God Knows When.