One morning, you walked out to the horizon.
I traced the blurry edges of your profile
but the sun blinded me
and the tears made it harder for me to focus.
I remember gathering
everything you had given me
in a package.
I thrusted it under your arm and insisted
you take it -
I imagined carrying
something like it
to make it hard, slow, for anyone to move.
Alas, a box of unrealized possibilities
did not bear as much weight.
You strode away with your usual swagger,
and bled into the sunrise
as quickly as you had come.
(31 November 2009)