The End of Summer

After I said “I love you”
you hid your face in your mother’s chest
and said “I want to see him drive away.”

“I can’t leave yet,” I said.

I returned to our classroom
to move the toys into storage
and collect my belongings.

And then suddenly I understood what you meant.

I raced down the stairs and outside to the parking lot
but your car was no longer there.
I stood alone, shivering in the hot August sun.

I want you to watch me drive away,
to control your destiny like a three year old cannot do:
that was how you said “I love you”.

For Lauren Kelly, 8/21/98

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