Heading to Ithaca with a Heavy Soul

15 May

The dread became more
the closer
we got to the bus station.

We couldn’t walk slow enough
or fast enough.

Her left hand holding my
right hand.
My left hand holding
my luggage.
Just like that
Robert Johnson song.

I used humor
as a defense
for my sadness,
cracking jokes
at a breakneck

Not sure if
I’ve ever been
or sadder.

I kissed her goodbye
thinking it’d be
a matter
of time ‘til
we met again.

I wonder how different
things would be
if I’d have just canceled
my plans
and stayed a while longer……….

maybe we’d have gotten
it out of our system
perhaps I’d have never come

If only I could
visit a parallel
and find out
giving up
the lessons
I learned
from my
decision to leave.

~Edward Austin Robertson~


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